THE  LIBRARY 

'*  •  >       $. '  *V«- 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

BEQUEST  OF 

Alice  E.   Hilgard 


*£#^    1\. 


A<*4 

7 


//•/; 


TOM 


POLLY. 


/^yy, 
AN  OLD-FASHIONED  GIRL 


BY 

LOUISA  M.  ALCOTT, 

AOTHOR  OF   "UTTLE  WOMEN,"    "  LITTLE   MEN,"    "  WORK,"    "  SHAWL-STRAPS." 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


BOSTON: 
ROBERTS     BROTHERS. 

1880. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  yeir  1870,  by 

LOUISA   M.    ALCOTT, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


By  the  Same  Author. 

LITTLE   WOMEN;  OR,  MEG,  Jo,  BETH,  AND  AMY.     In 
Two  Parts.     Price  $3  oo. 

LITTLE   MEN:    LIFE  AT  PLUMFIELD  WITH  Jo's  BOYS. 
Price  $1.50. 

HOSPITAL    SKETCHES,    AND    CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE 
STORIES.     Price  $1.50. 

MY    BOYS.      Being  Aunt  Jo's  Scrap-Bag,  Vol.  I.     Price 

$1.00. 

SHAWL-STRAPS.     Being  Aunt  Jo's  Scrap-Bag,  Vol.  II. 
Price  $1.00. 

CUPID    AND    CHOW-CHOW.     Being  Aunt  Jo's  Scrap- 
Bag,  Vol.  III.     Price  $1.00. 

WORK:  A  STORY  OF  EXPERIENCE.    Price  $1.75. 
Mailed,  postpaid,  by  the  Publishers, 

ROBERTS    BROTHERS, 

Boston. 


UNIVERSITY  PRESS:  JOHN  WILSON  &  SON, 
CAMBRIDGE 

Add'l 


.  Or 


INDEX. 


Paxe. 
CHAPTER  I. 

POLLY  ARRIVES  .  1 


CHAPTER  II. 
NEW  FASHIONS 19 

CHAPTER  III. 
POLLY'S  TROUBLES 37 

CHAPTER  IV. 
LITTLE  THINGS 53 

CHAPTER  V. 
SCRAPES 72 

CHAPTER  VI. 
GRANDMA 90 

CHAPTER  VII. 
GOOD-BY 126 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
SIX  YEARS  AFTERWARD 145 


M865541 


4  Index. 

CHAPTER  IX. 
LESSONS 167 

CHAPTER  X. 
BROTHERS  AND  SISTERS 186 

CHAPTER  XL 
NEEDLES  AND  TONGUES 210 

CHAPTER  XII. 
FORBIDDEN  FRUIT 230 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
THE   SUNNY   SIDE 251 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
NIPPED  IN  THE  BUD 272 

CHAPTER  XV. 
BREAKERS  AHEAD 292 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
A  DRESS  PARADE 313 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
PLAYING  GRANDMOTHER 327 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
THE  WOMAN  WHO   DID  NOT  DARE 350 

CHAPTER  XIX. 
TOM'S  SUCCESS     ,  .    36G 


PREFACE. 


A  S  a  preface  is  the  only  place  where  an  author  can 
with  propriety  explain  a  purpose  or  apologize  for 
shortcomings,  I  venture  to  avail  myself  of  the  privilege 
to  make  a  statement  for  the  benefit  of  my  readers. 

As  the  first  part  of  "An  Old-Fashioned  Girl"  was 
written  in  1869,  the  demand  for  a  sequel,  in  beseeching 
little  letters  that  made  refusal  impossible,  rendered  it  nec 
essary  to  carry  my  heroine  boldly  forward  some  six  or 
seven  years  into  the  future.  The  domestic  nature  of  the 
story  makes  this  audacious  proceeding  possible;  while 
the  lively  fancies  of  my  young  readers  will  supply  all 
deficiencies,  and  overlook  all  discrepancies. 

This  explanation  will,  I  trust,  relieve  those  well-regu 
lated  minds,  who  cannot  conceive  of  such  literary  lawless 
ness,  from  the  bewilderment  which  they  suffered  when 
the  same  experiment  was  tried  in  a  former  book. 

The  "  Old-Fashioned  Girl "  is  not  intended  as  a  perfect 
model,  but  as  a  possible  improvement  upon  the  Girl  of 
the  Period,  who  seems  sorrowfully  ignorant  or  ashamed 
of  the  good  old  fashions  which  make  woman  truly  beau 
tiful  and  honored,  and,  through  her,  render  home  what  ii 


6  Preface. 

should  be, —  a  happy  place,  where  parents  and  children, 
brothers  and  sisters,  learn  to  love  and  know  and  help  one 
another. 

If  the  history  of  Polly's  girlish  experiences  suggests  a 
hint  or  insinuates  a  lesson,  I  shall  feel  that,  in  spite  of 
many  obstacles,  I  have  not  entirely  neglected  my  duty 
toward  the  little  men  and  women,  for  whom  it  is  an  honor 
and  a  pleasure  to  write,  since  in  them  I  have  always  found 
my  kindest  patrons,  gentlest  critics,  warmest  friends. 

L.  M.  A. 


AN  OLD-FASHIONED  GIRL. 


CHAPTER  I. 
POLLY  ARRIVES. 

f{  TT'S  time  to  go  to  the  station,  Tom." 

-I-     "  Come  on,  then." 

"  Oh,  I  'm  not  going  ;  it 's  too  wet.  Should  n't 
have  a  crimp  left  if  I  went  out  such  a  day  as  this ; 
and  I  want  to  look  nice  when  Polly  comes." 

uYou  don't  expect  me  to  go  and  bring  home  a 
strange  girl  alone,  do  you?"  And  Tom  looked  as 
much  alarmed  as  if  his  sister  had  proposed  to  him 
to  escort  the  \*ild  woman  of  Australia. 

44  Of  course  1  do.  It's  your  place  to  go  and  get 
her ;  and  if  you  was  n't  a  bear,  you  'd  like  it." 

"  Well,  I  call  that  mean  !  I  supposed  I  'd  got  to 
go  ;  but  you  said  )  ou  'd  go,  too.  Catch  me  bothering 
about  your  friends  another  time !  No,  sir  I "  And 
Tom  rose  from  the  sofa  with  an  ah*  of  indignant  reso 
lution,  the  impressive  effect  of  which  was  somewhat 
damaged  by  a  tousled  head,  and  the  hunched  appear 
ance  of  his  garments  generally. 


2  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

"  Now,  don't  be  cross  ;  and  I  '11  get  mamma  to  let 
you  have  that  horrid  Ned  Miller,  that  you  are  so  fond 
of,  come  and  make  you  a  visit  after  Polly's  gone," 
said  Fanny,  hoping  to  soothe  his  ruffled  feelings. 

"  How  long  is  she  going  to  stay  ? "  demanded 
Tom,  making  his  toilet  by  a  promiscuous  shake. 

"  A  month  or  two,  maybe.  She 's  ever  so  nice ; 
and  I  shall  keep  her  as  long  as  she's  happy." 

"  She  won't  stay  long  then,  if  I  can  help  it,"  mut 
tered  Tom,  who  regarded  girls  as  a  very  unnecessary 
portion  of  creation.  Boys  of  fourteen  are  apt  to 
think  so,  and  perhaps  it  is  a  wise  arrangement ;  for, 
being  fond  of  turning  somersaults,  they  have  an 
opportunity  of  indulging  in  a  good  one,  metaphori 
cally  speaking,  when,  three  or  four  years  later,  they 
become  the  abject  slaves  of  "  those  bothering  girls." 

"  Look  here  !  how  am  I  going  to  know  the  creature  i* 
I  never  saw  her,  and  she  never  saw  me.  You  '11  have 
to  come  too,  Fan,"  he  added,  pausing  on  his  way  to 
the  door,  arrested  by  the  awful  idea  that  he  might 
have  to  address  several  strange  girls  before  he  got  the 
right  one. 

"  You  '11  find  her  easy  enough  ;  she  '11  probably  be 
standing  round  looking  for  us.  I  dare  say  she'll 
know  you,  though  I  'm  not  there,  because  I  've  de 
scribed  you  to  her." 

"  Guess  she  won't,  then  ;  "  and  Tom  gave  a  hasty 
smooth  to  his  curly  pate  and  a  glance  at  the  mirror, 
feeling  sure  that  his  sister  had  n't  done  him  justice, 
Sisters  never  do,  as  "  we  fellows  "  know  too  well. 

"Do  go  along,  or  you'll  be  too  late;  and  then, 
what  will  Polly  think  of  me?"  cried  Fanny,  with  the 


Polly  Arrives.  3 

impatient  poke  which  is  peculiarly  aggravating  to 
masculine  dignity. 

"  She  '11  think  you  cared  more  about  your  frizzles 
than  your  friends,  and  she  '11  be  about  right,  too." 

Feeling  that  he  said  rather  a  neat  and  cutting  thing, 
Tom  sauntered  leisurely  awa}%  perfectly  conscious 
that  it  was  late,  but  bent  on  not  being  hurried  while 
in  sight,  though  he  ran  himself  off  his  legs  to  make 
up  for  it  afterward. 

"  If  I  was  the  President,  I  'd  make  a  law  to  shut  up 
all  boys  till  they  were  grown  ;  for  they  certainly  are 
the  most  provoking  toads  in  the  world,"  said  Fanny, 
as  she  watched  the  slouchy  figure  of  her  brother  stroll 
ing  down  the  street.  She  might  have  changed  her 
mind,  however,  if  she  had  followed  him,  for  as  soon 
as  he  turned  the  corner,  his  whole  aspect  altered  ;  his 
hands  came  out  of  his  pockets,  he  stopped  whistling, 
buttoned  his  jacket,  gave  his  cap  a  pull,  and  went  off 
at  a  great  pace. 

The  train  was  just  in  when  he  reached  the  station, 
panting  like  a  race-horse,  and  as  red  as  a  lobster  with 
the  wind  and  the  run. 

"  Suppose  she  '11  wear  a  top-knot  and  a  thingumbob, 
like  every  one  else ;  and  however  shall  I  know  her  ? 
Too  bad  of  Fan  to  make  me  come  alone ! "  thought 
Tom,  as  he  stood  watching  the  crowd  stream  through 
the  depot,  and  feeling  rather  daunted  at  the  array  of 
young  ladies  who  passed.  As  none  of  them  seemed 
looking  for  any  one,  he  did  not  accost  them,  but  eyed 
each  new  batch  with  the  air  of  a  mart}T.  "  That 's 
her,"  he  said  to  himself,  as  he  presently  caught  sight 
of  a  girl  in  gorgeous  array,  standing  with  her  hands 


4  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

folded,  and  a  very  small  hat  perched  on  the  top  of  a 
•very  large  "chig-non,"  as  Tom  pronounced  it.  "I 
suppose  I  've  got  to  speak  to  her,  so  here  goes ; " 
and,  nerving  himself  to  the  task,  Tom  slowly  ap 
proached  the  damsel,  who  looked  as  if  the  wind  had 
blown  her  clothes  into  rags,  such  a  flapping  of  sashes, 
scallops,  ruffles,  curls,  and  feathers  was  there. 

" 1  say,  if  you  please,  is  your  name  Polly  Milton?" 
meekly  asked  Tom,  pausing  before  the  breezj7  stranger. 

"  No,  it  is  n't,"  answered  the  young  lady,  with  a 
cool  stare  that  utterly  quenched  him. 

"  Where  in  thunder  is  she? "  growled  Tom,  walking 
off  in  high  dudgeon.  The  quick  tap  of  feet  behind 
him  made  him  turn  in  time  to  see  a  fresh-faced  little 
girl  running  down  the  long  station,  and  looking  as  if 
she  rather  liked  it.  As  she  smiled,  and  waved  her 
bag  at  him,  he  stopped  and  waited  for  her,  saying  to 
himself,  "  Hullo  !  I  wonder  if  that 's  Polly  ?  " 

Up  came  the  little  girl,  with  her  hand  out,  and  a 
hall-shy,  half-merry  look  in  her  blue  eyes,  as  she  said, 
inquiringly,  "  This  is  Tom,  is  n't  it?  " 

"  Yes.  How  did  you  know?"  and  Tom  got  over 
the  ordeal  of  hand-shaking  without  thinking  of  it,  he 
was  so  surprised. 

"  Oh,  Fan  told  me  you  'd  got  curly  hair,  and  a  funny 
nose,  and  kept  whistling,  and  wore  a  gray  cap  pulled 
over  your  eyes ;  so  I  knew  you  directly."  And 
Polly  nodded  at  him  in  the  most  friendly  manner, 
having  politely  refrained  from  calling  the  hair  "  red," 
the  nose  "  a  pug,"  and  the  cap  "  old,"  —  all  of  which 
facts  Fanny  had  carefully  impressed  upon  her  memory. 

"  Where  are  your  trunks?"  asked  Tom,  as  he  was 


Polly  Arrives.  5 

reminded  of  his  duty  by  her  handing  him  the  bag, 
which  he  had  not  offered  to  take. 

"  Father  told  me  not  to  wait  for  any  one,  else  I  'd 
lose  my  chance  of  a  hack ;  so  I  gave  my  check  to  a 
man,  and  there  he  is  with  my  trunk ; "  and  Polly 
walked  off  after  her  one  modest  piece  of  baggage, 
followed  by  Tom,  who  felt  a  trifle  depressed  by  his 
own  remissness  in  polite  attentions. 

"  She  isn't  a  bit  of  a  young  lady,  thank  goodness  ! 
Fan  did  n't  tell  me  she  was  pretty.  Don't  look  like 
city  girls,  nor  act  like  'em,  neither,"  he  thought,  trud 
ging  in  the  rear,  and  eyeing  with  favor  the  brown 
curls  bobbing  along  in  front. 

As  the  carriage  drove  off,  Polly  gave  a  little  bounce 
on  the .  springy  seat,  and  laughed  like  a  delighted 
child.  u  I  do  like  to  ride  in  these  nice  hacks,  and  see 
all  the  fine  things,  and  have  a  good  time,  don't  you  ?  " 
she  said,  composing  herself  the  next  minute,  as  if  it 
suddenly  occurred  to  her  that  she  was  going  a-visiting. 

"  Not  much,"  said  Tom,  not  minding  what  he  said, 
for  the  fact  that  he  was  shut  up  with  the  strange  girl 
suddenly  oppressed  his  soul. 

"  How 's  Fan  ?  Why  did  n't  she  come,  too  ?  "  asked 
Polly,  trying  to  look  demure,  while  her  eyes  danced 
in  spite  of  her. 

"  Afraid  of  spoiling  her  crinkles  ; "  and  Tom  smiled, 
for  this  base  betrayal  of  confidence  made  him  feel  his 
own  man  again. 

"  You  and  I  don't  mind  dampness.  I  'm  much 
obliged  to  you  for  coming  to  take  care  of  me." 

It  was  kind  of  Polly  to  say  that,  and  Tom  felt  it ; 
for  his  red  crop  was  a  tender  point,  and  to  be 


6  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

associated  with  Polly's  pretty  brown  curls  seemed 
to  lessen  its  coppery  glow.  Then  he  hadn't  done 
anything  for  her  but  carry  the  bag  a  few  steps  ;  yet, 
she  thanked  him.  He  felt  grateful,  and  in  a  burst  of 
confidence,  offered  a  handful  of  peanuts,  for  his  pock 
ets  were  always  supplied  with  this  agreeable  deli 
cacy,  and  he  might  be  traced  anywhere  by  the  trail  of 
shells  he  left  behind  him. 

As  soon  as  he  had  done  it,  he  remembered  that 
Fanny  considered  them  vulgar,  and  felt  that  he  had 
disgraced  his  family.  So  he  stuck  his  head  out  of 
the  window,  and  kept  it  there  so  long,  that  Polly 
asked  if  anything  was  the  matter.  "  Pooh  !  who  cares 
for  a  countrified  little  thing  like  her,"  said  Tom  man 
fully  to  himself;  and  then  the  spirit  of  mischief 
entered  in  and  took  possession  of  him. 

"  He 's  pretty  drunk  ;  but  I  guess  he  can  hold  his 
horses,"  replied  this  evil-minded  boy,  with  an  air  of 
calm  resignation. 

"  Is  the  man  tipsy?  Oh,  dear  !  let 's  get  out !  Are 
the  horses  bad  ?  It 's  very  steep  here  ;  do  you  think 
it's  safe?"  cried  poor  Polly,  making  a  cocked  hat 
of  her  little  beaver,  by  thrusting  it  out  of  the  half- 
open  window  on  her  side. 

44  There  's  plenty  of  folks  to  pick  us  up  if  anything 
happens  ;  but  perhaps  it  would  be  safer  if  I  got  out 
and  sat  with  the  man  ; "  and  Tom  quite  beamed  with 
the  brilliancy  of  this  sudden  mode  of  relief. 

44  Oh,  do,  if  you  ain't  afraid  !  Mother  would  be  so 
anxious  if  anything  should  happen  to  me,  so  far 
away ! "  cried  Polly,  much  distressed. 

44  Don't  you  be  worried.     I  '11  manage  the  old  chap, 


Polly  Arrives.  7 

and  the  horses  too ; "  and  opening  the  door,  Tom 
vanished  aloft,  leaving  poor  victimized  Polly  to  quake 
inside,  while  he  placidly  revelled  in  freedom  and  pea 
nuts  outside,  with  the  staid  old  driver. 

Fanny  eaino  flying  down  to  meet  her  "darling 
Polly,"  as  Tom  presented  her,  with  the  graceful 
remark,  "  I've  got  her ! "  and  the  air  of  a  dauntless 
hunter,  producing  the  trophies  of  his  skill.  Polly 
was  instantly  whisked  up  stairs ;  and  having  danced 
a  double-shuffle  on  the  door-mat,  Tom  retired  to  tht 
diuing-room,  to  restore  exhausted  nature  with  half  a 
dozen  cookies. 

"  Ain't  you  tired  to  death  ?  Don't  you  want  to 
lie  down  ?  "  said  Fanny,  sitting  on  the  side  of  the  bed 
in  Polly's  room,  and  chattering  hard,  while  she 
examined  everything  her  friend  had  on. 

"Not  a  bit.  I  had  a  nice  time  coming,  and  no 
trouble,  except  the  tipsy  coachman  ;  but  Tom  got  out 
and  kept  him  in  order,  so  I  was  n't  much  frightened," 
answered  innocent  Polly,  taking  off  her  rough-and- 
ready  coat,  and  tfee  plain  hat  without  a  bit  of  a 
feather. 

"  Fiddlestick  !  he  was  n't  tipsy  ;  and  Tom  only  did 
it  to  get  out  of  the  way.  He  can't  bear  girls/1  said 
Fanny,  with  a  superior  air. 

"  Can't  he?  Why,  I  thought  he  was  very  pleasant 
and  kind  ! "  and  Polly  opened  her  eyes  with  a  sur 
prised  expression. 

"  He *s  an  awful  boy,  my  dear ;  and  if  you  have 
anything  to  do  with  him,  he  '11  torment  you  to  death. 
Boys  are  all  horrid ;  'but  he 's  the  horridest  one  I  ever 
saw." 


8  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

Fanny  went  to  a  fashionable  school,  where  the 
young  ladies  were  so  busy  with  their  French,  German, 
and  Italian,  that  there  was  no  time  for  good  English. 
Feeling  her  confidence  much  shaken  in  the  youth, 
Polly  privately  resolved  to  let  him  alone,  and  changed 
the  conversation,  by  saying,  as  she  looked  admiringly 
about  the  large,  handsome  room,  "  How  splendid  it 
is !  I  never  slept  in  a  bed  with  curtains  before,  or 
had  such  a  fine  toilet-table  as  this." 

"I  'm  glad  you  like  it ;  but  don't,  for  mercy  sake, 
say  such  things  before  the  other  girls ! "  replied 
Fanny,  wishing  Polly  would  jvear  ear-rings,  as  every 
one  else  did. 

"  Why  not?"  asked  the  country  mouse  of  the  city 
mouse,  wondering  what  harm  there  was  in  liking 
other  people's  pretty  things,  and  saying  so. 

"Oh,  they  laugh  at  everything  the  least  bit  odd, 
and  that  is  n't  pleasant."  Fanny  did  n't  saj 
"  countrified,"  but  she  meant  it,  and  Polly  fell 
uncomfortable.  So  she  shook  out  her  little  black- 
silk  apron  with  a  thoughtful  face,  and  resolved  not  ta 
allude  to  her  own  home,  if  she  could  help  it. 

"  I  'in  so  poorly,  mamma  says  I  needn't  go  t<i 
school  regularly,  while  }rou  are  here,  —  only  two  01 
three  times  a  week,  just  to  keep  up  my  music  ana 
French.  You  can  go  too,  if  you  like  ;  papa  said  so 
Do,  it's  such  fun!"  cried  Fanny,  quite  surpris* 
ing  her  friend  by  this  unexpected  fondness  foi 
school. 

"  I  should  be  afraid,  if  all  the  girls  dress  as  finely 
as  you  do,  and  know  as  much,"  said  Polly,  beginning 
to  feel  shy  at  the  thought 


Polly  Arrives.  9 

"  La,  child  !  you  need  n't  mind  that.  I  '11  take  care 
of  you,  and  fix  you  up,  so  you  won't  look  odd." 

*'  Am  I  odd  ? "  asked  Polly,  struck  by  the  word, 
and  hoping  it  did  n't  mean  anything  very  bad. 

"  You  are  a  dear,  and  ever  so  much  prettier  than 
you  were  last  summer,  only  you  Ve  been  brought  up 
differently  from  us  ;  so  your  ways  ain't  like  ours, 
you  see,"  began  Fanny,  finding  it  rather  hard  to 
explain. 

"  How  different?"  asked  Polly  again,  for  she  liked 
to  understand  things. 

44  Well,  you  dress  like  a  little  girl,  for  one  thing." 

44 1  am  a  little  girl ;  so  why  should  n't  I  ? "  and 
Polly  looked  at  her  simple  blue  merino  frock,  stout 
boots,  and  short  hair,  with  a  puzzled  air. 

44  You  are  fourteen ;  and  we  consider  ourselves 
young  ladies  at  that  age,"  continued  Fanny,  sur 
veying,  with  complacency,  the  pile  of  hair  on  the  top 
of  her  head,  with  a  fringe  of  fuzz  round  her  forehead, 
and  a  wavy  lock  streaming  down  her  back  ;  likewise, 
her  scarlet-and-black  suit,  with  its  big  sash,  little  pan 
nier,  bright  buttons,  points,  rosettes,  —  and,  heaven 
knows  what.  There  was  a  locket  on  her  neck,  ear 
rings  tinkling  in  her  ears,  watch  and  chain  at  her 
belt,  and  several  rings  on  a  pair  of  hands  that  would 
have  been  improved  by  soap  and  water. 

Polly's  eye  went  from  one  little  figure  to  the  other, 
and  she  thought  that  Fanny  looked  the  oddest  of  the 
two ;  for  Polty  lived  in  a  quiet  country  town,  and 
knew  very  little  of  city  fashions.  She  was  rather 
impressed  by  the  elegance  about  her,  ne>ver  having 
seen  Fanny's  home  before,  as  they  got  acquainted 


io  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

while  Fanny  paid  a  visit  to  a  friend  who  lived  near 
Polly.  But  she  didn't  let  the  contrast  between 
herself  and  Fan  trouble  her;  for  in  a  minute  she 
laughed  and  said,  contentedly,  "  My  mother  likes  me 
f.o  dress  simply,  and  I  don't  mind.  I  shouldn't 
know  what  to  do  rigged  up  as  you  are.  Don't  you 
ever  forget  to  lift  your  sash  and  fix  those  puffy  things 
when  you  sit  down  ?  " 

Before  Fanny  could  answer,  a  scream  from  below 
made  both  listen.  "  It 's  only  Maud  ;  she  fusses  all 
day  long,"  began  Fanny  ;  and  the  words  were  hardly 
out  of  her  mouth,  when  the  door  was  thrown  open, 
and  a  little  girl,  of  six  or  seven,  came  roaring  in. 
She  stopped  at  sight  of  Polly,  stared  a  minute,  then 
took  up  her  roar  just  where  she  left  it,  and  cast  her 
self  into  Fanny's  lap,  exclaiming  wrathfully,  "  Tom  'a 
laughing  at  me  !  Make  him  stop  !  " 

"  What  did  }rou  do  to  set  him  going  ?  Don't 
scream  so,  you  '11  frighten  Polly !  "  and  Fan  gave  the 
cherub  a  shake,  which  produced  an  explanation. 

"  I  only  said  we  had  cold  cweam  at  the  party,  last 
night,  and  he  laughed  !  " 

"  Ice-cream,  child !  "  and  Fanny  followed  Tom's 
reprehensible  example. 

"  I  don't  care  !  it  was  cold  ;  and  I  warmed  mine  at 
the  wegister,  and  then  it  was  nice  ;  only,  Willy  Bliss 
spilt  it  on  my  new  Gabwielle ! "  and  Maud  wailed 
again  over  her  accumulated  woes. 

"  Do  go  to  Katy  !  You  're  as  cross  as  a  little  bear 
to-day  !  "  said  Fanny,  pushing  her  away. 

"Katy  don't  amoose  me ;  and  I  must  be  amoosed, 
'  cause  I  'm  f wactious  ;  mamma  said  I  was  1 "  sobbed 


Polly  Arrives.  \  \ 

Maud,  evidently  laboring  under  the  delusion  that  frao- 
tiousness  was  some  interesting  malady. 

"  Come  down  and  have  dinner ;  that  will  amuse 
you ; "  and  Fanny  got  up,  pluming  herself  as  a  Jjird 
does  before  its  flight. 

Polly  hoped  the  "  dreadful  boy  "  would  not  be  pres 
ent  ;  but  he  was,  and  stared  at  her  all  dinner-time, 
in  a  most  t^iug  manner.  Mr.  Shaw,  a  busy-looking 
gentleman,  said,  u  How  do  you  do,  my  dear?  Hope 
}X)U  '11  enjoy  yourself ;"  and  then  appeared  to  forget 
her  entirely.  Mrs.  Shaw,  a  pale,  nervous  woman, 
greeted  her  little  guest  kindly,  and  took  care  that  she 
wanted  for  nothing.  Madam  Shaw,  a  quiet  old  lady, 
with  an  imposing  cap,  exclaimed  on  seeing  Polly, 
u  Bless  my  heart !  the  image  of  her  mother  —  a  sweet 
woman  —  how  is  she,  dear  ?  "  and  kept  peering  at  the 
new  comer  over  her  glasses,  till,  between  Madam  and 
Tom,  poor  Polly  lost  her  appetite. 

Fanny  chatted  like  a  magpie,  and  Maud  fidgeted, 
till  Tom  proposed  to  put  her  under  the  big  dish-cover, 
which  produced  such  an  explosion,  that  the  young 
lady  was  borne  screaming  away,  by  the  much-endur 
ing  Katy.  It  was  altogether  an  uncomfortable  din 
ner,  and  Polly  was  very  glad  when  it  was  over. 
They  all  went  about  their  own  affairs ;  and  after 
doing  the  honors  of  the  house,  Fan  was  called  to  the 
dressmaker,  leaving  Polly  to  amuse  herself  in  the 
great  drawing-room. 

Polly  was  glad  to  be  alone  for  a  few  minutes  ;  and, 
having  examined  all  the  pretty  things  about  her,  be 
gan  to  walk  up  and  down  over  the  soft,  flowery  car 
pet,  humming  to  herself,  as  the  daylight  faded,  and 


12  An  Old-Fashioned  GirL 

only  the  ruddy  glow  of  the  fire  filled  the  room.  Pres 
ently  Madam  came  slowly  in,  and  sat  down  in  hor 
arm-chair,  saying,  "  That's  a  fine  old  tune  ;  sing  it  to 
me,  jny  dear.  I  have  n't  heard  it  this  many  a  day." 

Polly  did  n't  like  to  sing  before  strangers,  for  she 
had  •  had  no  teaching  but  such  as  her  busy  mother 
could  give  her  ;  but  she  had  been  taught  the  utmost 
respect  for  old  people,  and  having  no  reason  for  re 
fusing,  she  directly  went  to  the  piano,  and  did  as  she 
was  bid. 

"  That 's  the  sort  of  music  it 's  a  pleasure  to  hear. 
Sing  some  more,  dear,"  said  Madam,  in  her  gentle 
way,  when  she  had  done. 

Pleased  with  this  praise,  Polly  sang  away  in  a  fresh 
little  voice,  that  went  straight  to  the  listener's  heart 
and  nestled  there.  The  sweet  old  tunes  that  one  is 
never  tired  of  were  all  Polly's  store  ;  and  her  favorites 
were  Scotch  airs,  such  as,  "  Yellow-Haired  Laddie," 
"Jock  o'  Hazeldean,"  "  Down  amang  the  Heather,"  and 
44  Birks  of  Aberfeldie."  The  more  she  sung,  the  bet 
ter  she  did  it ;  and  when  she  wound  up  with  "  A 
Health  to  King  Charlie,"  the  room  quite  rung  with 
the  stirring  music  made  by  the  big  piano  and  the  little 
raaid. 

" By  George,  that's  a  jolly  tune !  Sing  it  again, 
please,"  cried  Tom 's  voice  ;  and  there  was  Tom 's  red 
head  bobbing  up  over  the  high  back  of  the  chair  where 
he  had  hidden  himself. 

It  gave  Polly  quite  a  turn,  for  she  thought  no  one 
was  hearing  her  but  the  old  lady  dozing  by  the  fire. 
44 1  can't  sing  anymore;  I'm  tired,"  she  said,  and 
walked  away  to  Madam  in  the  other  room.  The  red 


Polly  Arrives.  13 

Dead  vanished  like  a  meteor,  for  Polly's  tone  had 
been  decidedly  cool. 

The  old  lady  put  out  her  hand,  and  drawing  Polly 
to  her  knee,  looked  into  her  face  with  such  kind  eyes, 
that  Polly  forgot  the  impressive  cap,  and  smiled  at 
her  confidingly ;  for  she  saw  that  her  simple  music 
had  pleased  her  listener,  and  she  felt  glad  to  know  it. 

"  You  must  n't  mind  my  staring,  dear,"  said  Mad 
am,  softly  pinching  her  rosy  cheek.  "  I  have  n't  seen 
a  little  girl  for  so  long,  it  does  my  old  eyes  good  to 
look  at  you." 

Polly  thought  that  a  very  odd  speech,  and  could  n't 
help  saying,  "  Are  n't  Fan  and  Maud  little  girls, 
too?" 

u  Oh,  dear,  no !  not  what  /  call  little  girls.  Fan 
has  been  a  young  lady  this  two  years,  and  Maud  is  a 
spoiled  baby.  Your  mother 's  a  very  sensible  woman, 
my  child." 

"  What  a  very  queer  old  lady  I "  thought  Polly ; 
but  she  said  **  Yes  'm "  respectfully,  and  looked  at 
the  fire. 

"You  don't  understand  what  I  mean,  do  you?'* 
asked  Madam,  still  holding  her  by  the  chin. 

"  No  'm  ;  not  quite." 

"  Well,  dear,  I  '11  tell  you.  In  my  day,  children  of 
fourteen  and  fifteen  did  n't  dress  in  the  height  of  the 
fashion ;  go  to  parties,  as  nearly  like  those  of  grown 
people  as  it's  possible  to  make  them;  lead  idle, 
giddy,  unhealthy  lives,  and  get  blase  at  twenty.  We 
were  little  folks  till  eighteen  or  so ;  worked  and 
studied,  dressed  and  played,  like  children ;  honored 
our  parents ;  and  our  days  were  much  longer  in  the 
land  than  now,  it  seems  to  me." 


14  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

The  old  lady  appeared  to  forget  Polly  at  the  end  oi 
tier  speech  ;  for  she  sat  patting  the  plump  little  hand 
that  lay  in  her  own,  and  looking  up  at  a  faded  pic 
ture  of  an  old  gentleman  with  a  ruffled  shirt  and  a 
queue. 

"  Was  he  your  father,  Madam?" 

"  Yes,  dear ;  my  honored  father.  I  did  up  his 
frills  to  the  day  of  his  death  ;  and  the  first  money  I 
ever  earned  was  five  dollars  which  he  offered  as  a 
prize  to  whichever  of  his  six  girls  would  lay  the  hand 
somest  darn  in  his  silk  stockings." 

"  How  proud  you  must  have  been ! "  cried  Polly, 
leaning  on  the  old  lady's  knee  with  an  interested 
face. 

"  Yes ;  and  we  all  learned  to  make  bread,  and 
cook,  and  wore  little  chintz  gowns,  and  were  as  gay 
and  hearty  as  kittens.  All  lived  to  be  grandmothers 
and  fathers  ;  and  I  'm  the  last,  —  seventy,  next  birth 
day,  my  dear,  and  not  worn  out  j-et ;  though  daughter 
Shaw  is  an  invalid  at  forty." 

"  That 's  the  way  I  was  brought  up,  and  that  's 
why  Fan  calls  me  old-fashioned,  I  suppose.  Tell 
more  about  your  papa,  please ;  I  like  it,"  said 
Polly. 

"  Say '  father/  We  never  called  him  papa  ;  and  if 
one  of  my  brothers  had  addressed  him  as  '  gover 
nor,'  as  boys  do  now,  I  really  think  he  'd  have  him 
cut  off  with  a  shilling." 

Madam  raised  her  voice  in  saying  this,  and  nodded 
significantly ;  but  a  mild  snore  from  the  other  room 
seemed  to  assure  her  that  it  was  a  waste  of  shot  to 
fire  in  that  direction. 

Before  she   could   continue,  in   came  Fanny  with 


Polly  Arrives.  15 

the  joyful  news  that  Clara  Bird  had  invited  them 
both  to  go  to  the  theatre  with  her  that  very  evening, 
and  would  call  for  them  at  seven  o'clock.  Polly  was 
so  excited  by  this  sudden  plunge  into  the  dissipations 
of  city  life,  that  she  flew  about  like  a  distracted  but 
terfly,  and  hardly  knew  what  happened,  till  she  found 
herself  seated  before  the  great  green  curtain  in  the 
brilliant  theatre.  Old  Mr.  Bird  sat  on  one  side, 
Fanny  on  the  other,  and  both  let  her  alone,  for  which 
she  was  very  grateful,  as  her  whole  attention  was  so 
absorbed  in  the  scene  around  her,  that  she  could  n't 
talk. 

Polly  had  never  been  much  to  the  theatre  ;  and  the 
few  plays  she  had  seen  were  the  good  old  fairy  tales, 
dramatized  to  suit  young  beholders,  —  lively,  bright, 
and  full  of  the  harmless  nonsense  which  brings  the 
laugh  without  the  blush.  That  night  she  saw  one  of 
tho  new  spectacles  which  have  lately  become  the  rage, 
and  run  for  hundreds  of  nights,  dazzling,  exciting, 
and  demoralizing  the  spectator  by  every  allurement 
French  ingenuity  can  invent,  and  American  prodi 
gality  execute.  Never  mind  what  its  name  was,  it  was 
very  gorgeous,  very  vulgar,  and  very  fashionable  ;  so, 
of  course,  it  was  much  admired,  and  every  one  went 
to  see  it.  At  first,  Polly  thought  she  had  got  into 
fairy-land,  ami  saw  only  the  sparkling  creatures  who 
danced  and  sung  in  a  world  of  light  and  beauty  ;  but, 
presently,  she  began  to  listen  to  the  songs  and  con 
versation,  and  then  the  illusion  vanished  ;  for  the 
lovety  phantoms  sang  negro  melodies,  talked  slang, 
and  were  a  disgrace  to  the  good  old-fashioned  elves 
whom  she  knew  and  loved  so  well. 


1 6  An  Old- Fashioned  Girl. 

Our  little  girl  was  too  innocent  to  understand  half 
the  jokes,  and  often  wondered  what  people  were 
laughing  at ;  but,  as  the  first  enchantment  subsided, 
Polly  began  to  feel  uncomfortable,  to  be  sure  her 
mother  would  n't  like  to  have  her  there,  and  to  wist) 
she  had  n't  come.  Somehow,  things  seemed  to  get 
worse  and  worse,  as  the  play  went  on  ;  for  our  small 
spectator  was  being  rapidly  enlightened  by  the  gossip 
going  on  all  about  her,  as  well  as  by  her  own  quick 
eyes  and  girlish  instincts.  When  four-and-twenty 
girls,  dressed  as  jockeys,  came  prancing  on  to  the  stage, 
cracking  their  whips,  stamping  the  heels  of  their  top- 
boots,  and  winking  at  the  audience,  Polly  did  not 
think  it  at  all  funny,  but  looked  disgusted,  and  was 
glad  when  they  were  gone ;  but  when  another  set 
appeared  in  a  costume  consisting  of  gauze  wings,  and 
a  bit  of  gold  fringe  round  the  waist,  poor  unfashiona 
ble  Polly  did  n't  know  what  to  do ;  for  she  felt  both 
frightened  and  indignant,  and  sat  with  her  eyes  on 
her.  play-bill,  and  her  cheeks  getting  hotter  and  hotter 
every  minute. 

"  What  are  you  blushing  so  for  ?  "  asked  Fanny,  as 
the  painted  sylphs  vanished. 

"  I  'm  so  ashamed  of  those  girls,"  whispered  Polly, 
taking  a  long  breath  of  relief. 

"  You  little  goose,  — it's  just  the  way  it  was  done 
in  Paris,  and  the  dancing  is  splendid.  It  seen) a 
queer  at  first ;  but  you  '11  get  used  to  it,  afc  I  did." 

"  I  '11  never  come  again,"  said  Polly,  decidedly ; 
for  her  innocent  nature  rebelled  against  the  spectacle, 
which,  as  yet,  gave  her  more  pain  than  pleasure. 
She  did  not  know  how  easy  it  was  to  "  get  used  to 


Polly  Arrives.  17 

it,"  as  Fanny  did ;  and  it  was  well  for  her  that  the 
temptation  was  not  often  offered.  She  could  not 
explain  the  feeling ;  but  she  was  glad  when  the  play 
was  done,  and  they  were  safe  at  home,  where  kind 
grandma  was  waiting  to  see  them  comfortably  into 
bed. 

"  Did  you  have  a  good  time,  dear  ? "  she  asked, 
looking  at  Polly's  feverish  cheeks  and  excited  eyes. 

"  I  don't  wish  to  be  rude,  but  I  did  n't,"  answered 
Polly.  "  Some  of  it  was  splendid  ;  but  a  good  deal 
of  it  made  me  want  to  go  under  the  seat.  People 
seemed  to  like  it,  but  /  don't  think  it  was  proper." 

As  Polly  freed  her  mind,  and  emphasized  her  opin 
ion  with  a  decided  rap  of  the  boot  she  had  just  taken 
off,  Fanny  laughed,  and  said,  while  she  pirouetted 
about  the  room,  like  Mademoiselle  Therese,  "Polly 
was  shocked,  grandma.  Her  eyes  were  as  big  as 
saucers,  her  face  as  red  as  my  sush,  and  once  I 
thought  she  was  going  to  cry.  Some  of  it  was  rather 
queer ;  but,  of  course,  it  was  proper,  or  all  our  set 
would  n't  go.  I  heard  Mrs.  Smythe  Perkins  sa}r,  4  It 
was  charming ;  so  like  dear  Paris ; '  and  she  has 
lived  abroad ;  so,  of  course,  she  knows  what  is 
what." 

"  I  don't  care  if  she  has.  I  know  it  wasn't  proper 
for  little  girls  to  see,  or  I  should  n't  have  been  so 
ashamed ! "  cried  sturdy  Polly,  perplexed,  but  not 
convinced,  even  by  Mrs.  Smythe  Perkins. 

"  I  think  }rou  are  right,  my  dear ;  but  you  have 
lived  in  the  country,  and  haven't  yet  learned  that 
modest}7  has  gone  out  of  fashion."  And  with  a  good 
night  kiss,  grandma  left  Polly  to  dream  dreadfully  of 
a 


1 8  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

dancing  in  jockey  costume,  on  a  great  stage ;  while 
Tom  played  a  big  drum  in  the  orchestra;  and  the 
audience  all  wore  the  faces  of  her  father  and  mother, 
looking  sorrowfully  at  her,  with  eyes  like  saucers, 
and  faces  as  red  as  Fanny's  sash. 


CHAPTER  11. 


NEW    FASHIONS. 

f(  T'M  going  to  school  this  morning;  so    come  up 

•*•  and  get  ready,"  said  Fanny,  a  day  or  two 
after,  as  she  left  the  late  breakfast-table. 

"  You  look  very  nice  ;  what  have  you  got  to  do?  " 
asked  Polly,  following  her  into  the  hall. 

"  Prink  half  an  hour,  and  put  on  her  wad,"  answered 
the  irreverent  Tom,  whose  preparations  for  school 
consisted  in  flinging  his  cap  on  to  his  head,  and  strap 
ping  up  several  big  books,  that  looked  as  if  they  were 
sometimes  used  as  weapons  of  defence. 

"  What  is  a  wad  ? "  asked  Polly,  while  Fanny 
inarched  up  without  deigning  any  reply. 

44  Somebody's  hair  on  the  top  of  her  head  in  the 
place  where  it  ought  not  to  be  ; "  and  Tom  went  whist 
ling  away  with  an  air  of  sublime  indifference  as  to 
the  state  of  his  own  u  curly  pow." 

u  Why  must  you  be  so  fine  to  go  to  school?"  asketJ 
Polly,  watching  Fan  arrange  the  little  frizzles  on  her 
forehead,  and  settle  the  various  streamers  and  festoons 
belonging  to  her  dress. 

44  All  the  girls  do ;  and  it 's  proper,  for  you  never 
know  who  you  uiay  meet.  I  'm  going  to  walk,  after 


2O  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

my  lessons,  so  I  wish  you  'd  wear  your  best  hat  and 
sack,"  answered  Fanny,  trying  to  stick  her  own  hat  on 
at  an  angle  which  defied  all  the  laws  of  gravitation. 

"  I  will,  if  you  don't  think  this  is  nice  enough.  I 
like  the  other  best,  because  it  has  a  feather  ;  but  this 
is  warmer,  so  I  wear  it  every  day."  And  Polly  ran 
into  her  own  room,  to  prink  also,  fearing  that  her 
friend  might  be  ashamed  of  her  plain  costume. 
"  Won't  your  hands  be  cold  in  kid  gloves?"  she  said, 
as  they  went  down  the  snowy  street,  with  a  north 
wind  blowing  in  their  faces. 

44  Yes,  horrid  cold  ;  but  my  muff  is  so  big,  I  won't 
carry  it.  Mamma  won't  have  it  cut  up,  and  my  ermine 
one  must  be  kept  for  best ;  "  and  Fanny  smoothed  her 
Bismark  kids  with  an  injured  air. 

44 1  suppose  my  gray  squirrel  is  ever  so  much  too 
big ;  but  it's  nice  and  cos}7,  and  you  may  warm  your 
hands  in  it  if  you  want  to,"  said  Polly,  surveying  her 
new  woollen  gloves  with  a  dissatisfied  look,  though  she 
had  thought  them  quite  elegant  before. 

44  Perhaps  I  will,  by  and  by.  No\v,  Polly,  don't  you 
be  shy.  I  '11  only  introduce  two  or  three  of  the  girls  ; 
and  you  need  n't  mind  old  Monsieur  a  bit,  or  read  if 
you  don't  want  to.  We  shall  be  in  the  anteroom  ;  so 
you  '11  only  see  about  a  dozen,  and  they  will  be  so 
busy,  they  won't  mind  you  much." 

44 1  guess  I  won't  read,  but  sit  and  look  on.  I  like 
to  watch  people,  everything  is  so  new  and  queer 
here." 

But  Polly  did  feel  and  look  very  shy,  when  she  was 
ushered  into  a  room  full  of  young  ladies,  as  they 
seemed  to  her,  all  very  much  dressed,  all  talking 


New   Fashions.  2 1 

together,  and  all  turning  to  examine  the  new-comer 
with  a  cool  stare  which  seemed  to  be  as  much  the 
fashion  as  eye-glasses.  They  nodded  affably  when 
Fanny  introduced  her,  said  something  civil,  and  made 
room  for  her  at  the  table  round  which  they  sat  waiting 
for  Monsieur.  Several  of  the  more  frolicsome  were 
imitating  the  Grecian  Bend,  some  were  putting  their 
heads  together  over  little  notes,  nearly  all  were  eating 
confectionery,  and  the  entire  twelve  chattered  like 
magpies.  Being  politely  supplied  with  caramels, 
Polly  sat  looking  and  listening,  feeling  very  young 
and  countrified  among  these  elegant  young  ladies. 

"  Girls,  do  you  know  that  Carrie  has  gone  abroad  ? 
There  has  been  so  much  talk,  her  father  could  n't  bear 
it,  and  took  the  whole  family  off.  Isn't  that  gay?" 
said  one  lively  damsel,  who  had  just  come  in. 

"I  should  think  they'd  better  go.  My  mamma 
says,  if  I'd  been  going  to  that  school,  she'd  have 
taken  me  straight  away,"  answered  another  girl,  with 
an  important  air. 

"  Carrie  ran  away  with  an  Italian  music- teacher, 
and  it  got  into  the  papers,  and  made  a  great  stir," 
explained  the  first  speaker  to  Polly,  who  looked  mys 
tified. 

"  How  dreadful !  "  cried  Polly. 

"/  think  it  was  fun.  She  was  only  sixteen,  and  he 
was  perfectly  splendid  ;  and  she  has  plenty  of  money, 
and  every  one  talked  about  it ;  and  when  she  went 
anywhere,  people  looked,  you  know,  and  she  liked 
it ;  but  her  papa  is  an  old  poke,  so  he 's  sent  them 
all  away.  It's  too  bad,  for  she  was  the  jolliest  thing 
I  ever  knew. " 


22  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

Polly  had  nothing  to  say  to  lively  Miss  Belle  ;  but 
Fanny  observed,  "  I  like  to  read  about  such  things  ; 
but  it 's  so  inconvenient  to  have  it  happen  right  here, 
because  it  makes  it  harder  for  us.  I  wish  you  could 
have  heard  ray  papa  go  on.  He  threatened  to  send  a 
maid  to  school  with  me  every  daj%  as  they  do  in  New 
York,  to  be  sure  I  come  all  right.  Did  you  ever  ?  " 

44  That's  because  it  came  out  that  Carrie  used  to 
forge  excuses  in  her  mamma's  name,  and  go  prom 
enading  with  her  Oreste,  when  they  thought  her  safe 
at  school.  Oh,  wasn't  she  a  sly  minx?"  cried  Belle, 
as  if  she  rather  admired  the  trick. 

"  I  think  a  little  fun  is  all  right ;  and  there 's  no 
need  of  making  a  talk,  if,  now  and  then,  some  one- 
does  run  off  like  Carrie.  Boys  do  as  they  like  ;  and 
7  don't  see  why  girls  need  to  be  kept  so  dreadfully 
close.  I  'd  like  to  see  anybody  watching  and  guard 
ing  me  !  "  added  another  dashing  }roung  lady. 

"  It  would  take  a  policeman  to  do  that,  Trix,  or  a 
little  man  in  a  tall  hat,"  said  Fanny,  slyly,  which 
caused  a  general  laugh,  and  made  Beatrice  toss  her 
head  coquettishly. 

"  Oh,  have  you  read  (  The  Phantom  Bride '  ?  It 's 
perfectly  thrilling  !  There 's  a  regular  rush  for  it  at 
the  library ;  but  some  prefer  4  Breaking  a  Butterfly.' 
"V/Tiich  do  you  like  best?"  asked  a  pale  girl  of  Polly, 
in  one  of  the  momentary  lulls  which  occurred. 

u  I  have  n't  read  either." 

"  You  must,  then.  I  adore  Guy  Livingston's  books, 
ai  /d  Yates's.  4  Ouida's '  are  my  delight,  only  they  are 
so  long,  I  get  worn  out  before  I  'in  through." 

"  I  have  n't  read  anything  but  one  of  the  Mu  hi  bach 


New   Fashions.  23 

novels  since  I  came.  I  like  those,  because  there  is 
history  in  them,"  said  Polly,  glad  to  have  a  word  to 
say  for  herself. 

44  Those  are  well  enough  for  improving  reading ; 
but  1  like  real  exciting  novels  ;  don't  you?" 

Polly  was  spared  the  mortification  of  owning  that 
she  had  never  read  an}7,  by  the  appearance  of  Mon 
sieur,  a  gray-headed  old  Frenchman,  who  went 
through  his  task  with  the  resigned  air  of  one  who 
was  used  to  being  the  victim  of  giggling  school-girls. 
The  young  ladies  gabbled  over  the  lesson,  wrote  an 
exercise,  and  read  a  little  French  history.  But  it  did 
not  seem  to  make  much  impression  upon  them,  though 
Monsieur  was  very  ready  to  explain  ;  and  Polly  quite 
blushed  for  her  friend,  when,  on  being  asked  what 
famous  Frenchman  fought  in  our  Revolution,  she 
answered  Lamartine,  instead  of  Lafayette. 

The  hour  was  soon  over  ;  and  when  Fan  had  taken 
a  music  lesson  in  another  room,  while  Polly  looked 
on,  it  was  time  for  recess.  The  younger  girls  walked 
up  and  down  the  court,  arm  in  arm,  eating  bread  and 
butter  ;  others  stayed  in  the  school-room  to  read  and 
gossip  ;  but  Belle,  Trix,  and  Fanny  went  to  lunch  at 
a  fashionable  ice-cream  saloon  near  by,  and  Polly 
meekly  followed,  not  daring  to  hint  at  the  ginger 
bread  grandma  had  put  in  her  pocket  for  luncheon. 
So  the  honest,  brown  cookies  crumbled  away  in 
obscurity,  while  Polly  tried  to  satisfy  her  hearty 
appetite  on  one  ice  and  three  macaroons. 

The  girls  seemed  in  great  spirits,  particularly  after 
thery  were  joined  by  a  short  gentleman  with  such  a 
young  face  that  Polly  would  have  called  him  a  boy,  if 


24  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

he  had  not  worn  a  tall  beaver.  Escorted  by  this  im 
pressive  youth,  Fanny  left  her  unfortunate  friends  to 
return  to  school,  and  went  to  walk,  as  she  called  a 
slow  promenade  down  the  most  crowded  streets. 
Polly  discreetly  fell  behind,  and  amused  herself 
Booking  into  shop-windows,  till  Fanny,  mindful  of 
her  manners,  even  at  such  an  interesting  time,  took 
her  into  a  picture  gallery,  and  bade  her  enjoy  the 
works  of  art  while  they  rested.  Obedient  Polly  went 
through  the  room  several  times,  apparently  examin 
ing  the  pictures  with  the  interest  of  a  connoisseur, 
and  trying  not  to  hear  the  mild  prattle  of  the  pair  on 
the  round  seat.  But  she  couldn't  help  wondering 
what  Fan  found  so  absorbing  in  an  account  of  a 
recent  German,  and  why  she  need  promise  so  sol 
emnly  not  to  forget  the  concert  that  afternoon. 

When  Fanny  rose  at  last,  Polly's  tired  face  re 
proached  her ;  and  taking  a  hasty  leave  of  the  small 
gentleman,  she  turned  homeward,  saying,  confiden 
tially,  as  she  put  one  hand  in  Polly's  muff,  "  Now, 
my  dear,  you  must  n't  say  a  word  about  Frank  Moore, 
or  papa  will  take  my  head  off.  /  don't  care  a  bit  for 
him,  and  he  likes  Trix  ;  only  they  have  quarrelled, 
and  he  wants  to  make  her  mad  by  flirting  a  little 
with  me.  I  scolded  him  well,  and  he  promised  to 
make  up  with  her.  We  all  go  to  the  afternoon  con 
certs,  and  have  a  gay  time,  and  Belle  and  Trix  are  to 
be  there  to-day ;  so  just  keep  quiet,  and  everything 
will  be  all  right." 

"  I  'm  afraid  it  won't,"  began  Polly,  who,  not  being 
used  to  secrets,  found  it  very  hard  to  keep  even  a 
small  one. 


New   Fashions.  25 

u  Don't  worry,  child.  It 's  none  of  our  business  ; 
so  we  can  go  and  enjoy  the  music,  and  if  other  peo 
ple  flirt,  it  won't  be  our  fault,"  said  Fanny,  impa 
tiently. 

"  Of  course  not ;  but,  then,  if  your  father  don't 
like  you  to  do  so,  ought  you  to  go?" 

"  I  tell  mamma,  and  she  don't  care.  Papa  is  fussy, 
and  grandma  makes  a  stir  about  every  blessed  thing 
I  do.  You  will  hold  your  tongue,  won't  you?" 

"  Yes ;  I  truly  will ;  I  never  tell  tales."  And 
Polly  kept  her  word,  feeling  sure  Fan  did  n't  mean  to 
deceive  her  father,  since  she  told  her  mother  every 
thing. 

"  Who  are  you  going  with  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Shaw, 
when  Fanny  mentioned  that  it  was  concert-day,  just 
before  three  o'clock. 

"  Only  Polly  ;  she  likes  music,  and  it  was  so  stormy 
I  could  n't  go  last  week,  you  know,"  answered  Fan ; 
adding,  as  they  left  the  house  again,  "  If  any  one 
meets  us  on  the  way,  I  can't  help  it,  can  I  ?  " 

"  You  can  tell  them  not  to,  can't  you  ?  " 

"That's  rude.  Dear  me!  here's  Belle's  brother 
Gus  —  he  always  goes.  Is  my  hair  all  right,  and  my 
hat?" 

Before  Polly  could  answer,  Mr.  Gus  joined  them  as 
a  matter  of  course,  and  Polly  soon  found  herself  trot 
ting  on  behind,  feeling  that  things  were  not  "  all 
right,"  though  she  did  n't  know  how  to  mend  them. 
Being  fond  of  music,  she  ignorantly  supposed  that 
every  one  else  went  for  that  alone,  and  was  much 
disturbed  by  the  whispering  that  went  on  among  the 
young  people  round  her.  Belle  and  Trix  weie  there 


26  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

in  full  dress ;  and,  in  the  pauses  between  different 
pieces,  Messrs.  Frank  and  Gus,  with  several  other 
"  splendid  fellows,"  regaled  the  young  ladies  witli 
college  gossip,  and  bits  of  news  full  of  interest,  to 
judge  from  the  close  attention  paid  to  their  eloquent 
remarks.  Polly  regarded  these  noble  beings  with 
awe,  and  they  recognized  her  existence  with  the  con 
descension  of  their  sex ;  but  they  evidently  consid 
ered  her  only  "  a  quiet  little  thing,"  and  finding  her 
not  up  to  society  talk,  blandly  ignored  the  pretty 
child,  and  devoted  themselves  to  the  young  ladies. 
Fortunately  for  Polly,  she  forgot  all  about  them  in 
her  enjoyment  of  the  fine  music,  which  she  felt  rather 
than  understood,  and  sat  listening  with  such  a  happy 
face,  that  several  true  music-lovers  watched  her  smil 
ingly,  for  her  heart  gave  a  blithe  welcome  to  the  mel 
ody  which  put  the  little  instrument  in  tune.  It  was 
dusk  when  they  went  out,  and  Polly  was  much 
relieved  to  find  the  carriage  waiting  for  them,  be 
cause  playing  third  fiddle  was  not  to  her  taste,  and 
she  had  had  enough  of  it  for  one  day. 

"  I  'm  glad  those  men  are  gone ;  they  did  worry 
me  so  talking,  when  I  wanted  to  hear,"  said  Polly,  as 
they  rolled  away. 

"  Which  did  you  like  best?"  asked  Fanny,  with  a 
languid  air  of  superiority. 

"  The  plain  one,  who  did  n't  say  much ;  he  picked 
up  my  muff  when  it  tumbled  down,  and  took  care  of 
me  in  the  crowd ;  the  others  did  n't  mind  anything 
about  me." 

"  They  thought  you  were  a  little  girl,  I  suppose." 

"  My  mother  says   a  real  gentleman  is  as  polite  to 


New  Fashions.  27 

a  little  girl  as  to  a  woman ;  so  I  Jjke  Mr.  Sydney 
best,  because  he  was  kind  to  me." 

"  What  a  sharp  child  you  are,  Polly.  I  should  n't 
have  thought  you  'd  mind  things  like  that,"  said  Fan 
ny,  beginning  to  understand  that  there  may  be  a  good 
deal  of  womanliness  even  in  a  little  girl. 

"  I  'in  used  to  good  manners,  though  I  do  live  in 
the  country,"  replied  Polly,  rather  warmly,  for  she 
did  n't  like  to  be  patronized  even  by  her  friends. 

"  Grandma  says  your  mother  is  a  perfect  lady,  and 
you  are  just  like  her ;  so  don't  get  in  a  passion  with 
those  poor  fellows,  and  I  '11  see  that  they  behave  bet 
ter  next  time.  Tom  has  no  manners  at  all,  and 
you  don't  complain  of  him,"  added  Fan,  with  a 
hiugh. 

*•  I  don't  care  if  he  has  n't ;  he 's  a  boy,  and  acts 
like  one,  and  I  can  get  on  with  him  a  great  deal  bet 
ter  than  I  can  with  those  men." 

Fanny  was  just  going  to  take  Polly  to  task  for 
saying  "  those  men "  in  such  a  disrespectful  tone, 
when  both  were  startled  by  a  smothered  "  Cock-a- 
doodle-doo  !  "  from  under  the  opposite  seat; 

"  It 's  Tom  ! "  cried  Fanny  ;  and  with  the  words  out 
tumbled  that  incorrigible  boy,  red  in  the  face,  and 
breathless  with  suppressed  laughter.  Seating  him 
self,  he  surveyed  the  girls  as  if  well  satisfied  with  the 
success  of  his  prank,  and  waiting  to  be  congratulated 
upon  it.  "Did  you  hear  what  we  were  saying?" 
demanded  Fanny,  uneasily. 

"Oh,  did  n't  I,  every  word?"  And  Tom  exulted 
over  them  visibly. 

"  Did  you  ever  see  such  a  provoking  toad,  Polly  ? 


28  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

Now,  I  suppose  you'll  go  and  tell  papa  a  great 
story." 

"  P'r'aps  I  shall,  and  p'r'aps  I  shan't.  How  Polly 
did  hop  when  I  crowed !  I  heard  her  squeal,  and 
saw  her  cuddle  up  her  feet." 

"  And  you  heard  us  praise  your  manners,  did  n't 
you?"  asked  Polly,  slyly. 

"  Yes,  and  you  liked  'em  ;  so  I  won't  tell  on  you" 
said  Tom,  with  a  re-assuring  nod. 

"There's  nothing  to  tell." 

"Ain't  there,  though?  What  do  you  suppose  the 
governor  will  say  to  you  girls  going  on  so  with  those 
dandies  ?  I  saw  you." 

"  What  has  the  Governor  of  Massachusetts  to  do 
with  us  ?  "  asked  Polly,  trying  to  look  as  if  she  meant 
what  she  said. 

"  Pooh !  you  know  who  I  mean  ;  so  you  need  n't 
try  to  catch  me  up,  as  grandma  does." 

"Tom,  I'll  make  a  bargain  with  you,"  cried  Fanny, 
eagerly.  "  It  was  n't  my  fault  that  Gus  and  Frank 
were  there,  and  I  could  n't  help  their  speaking  to  me. 
I  do  as  well  as  I  can,  and  papa  need  n't  be  angry  ;  for 
I  behave  ever  so  much  better  than  some  of  the  girls. 
Don't  I,  Polly?" 

"Bargain?"  observed  Tom,  with  an  eye  to  busi 
ness. 

"  If  you  won't  go  and  make  a  fuss,  telling  what 
you  'd  no  right  to  hear  —  it  was  so  mean  to  hide  and 
listen ;  I  should  think  you  'd  be  ashamed  of  it !  —  I  '11 
help  you  tease  for  your  velocipede,  and  won't  say  a 
word  against  it,  when  mamma  and  granny  beg  papa 
not  to  let  you  have  it." 


New   Fashions.  29 

"  Will  you?"  and  Tom  paused  to  consider  the  offer 
in  all  its  bearings. 

44  Yes,  and  Polly  will  help  ;  won't  you?" 

"  I  'd  rather  not  have  anything  to  do  with  it ;  but 
Pll  be  quiet,  and  not  do  any  harm." 

u  "Why  won't  you  ?  "  asked  Tom,  curiously. 

"  Because  it  seems  like  deceiving." 

"  Well,  papa  need  n't  be  so  fussy,"  said  Fan,  petu 
lantly. 

"  After  hearing  about  that  Carrie,  and  the  rest,  I 
don't  wonder  he  is  fussy.  Why  don't  you  tell  right 
out,  and  not  do  it  any  more,  if  he  don't  want  you 
to  ?  "  said  Polly,  persuasively. 

44  Do  you  go  and  tell  your  father  and  mother  every 
thing  right  out  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  do  ;  and  it  saves  ever  so  much  trouble." 

"Ain't  you  afraid  of  them?" 

44  Of  course  I  'm  not.  It 's  hard  to  tell  sometimes  ; 
but  it 's  so  comfortable  when  it 's  over." 

44  Let 's  !  "  was  Tom's  brief  advice. 

44  Mercy  me !  what  a  fuss  about  nothing ! "  said 
Fanny,  ready  to  cry  with  vexation. 

44  'T  is  n't  nothing.  You  Tmow  you  are  forbidden  to 
go  gallivanting  round  with  those  chaps,  and  that's 
the  reason  you're  in  a  pucker  now.  I  won't  make 
any  bargain,  and  I  will  tell,"  returned  Tom,  seized 
with  a  sudden  fit  of  moral  firmness. 

44  Will  you  if  I  promise  never,  never  to  do  so  any 
more  ?  "  asked  Fannj^  meekly  ;  for  when  Thomas  took 
matters  into  his  own  hands,  his  sister  usually  sub 
mitted  in  spite  of  herself. 

44  I  '11  think  about  it ;  and  if  you  behave,  maybe  I 


30      •       An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

won't  do  it  at  all.  I  can  watch  you  better  than  papa 
can ;  so,  if  you  try  it  again,  it 's  all  up  with  you, 
miss,"  said  Tom,  finding  it  impossible  to  resist  the 
pleasure  of  tyrannizing  a  little  when  he  got  the 
chance. 

"  She  won't ;  don't  plague  her  any  more,  and  she 
will  be  good  to  you  when  you  get  into  scrapes,"  an 
swered  Polly,  with  her  arm  round  Fan. 

"  I  never  do  ;  and  if  I  did,  I  shouldn't  ask  a  girl  to 
help  me  out." 

"Why  not?  P(L  ask  you  in  a  minute,  if  I  was 
in  trouble,"  said  Polly,  in  her  confiding  way. 

"  Would  you?  Well,  I'd  put  you  through,  as  sure 
as  my  name 's  Tom  Shaw.  Now,  then,  don't  slip, 
Polly,"  and  Mr.  Thomas  helped  them  out  with  unus 
ual  politeness,  for  that,  friendly  little  speech  gratified 
him.  He  felt  that  one  person  appreciated  him  ;  and 
it  had  a  good  effect  upon  manners  and  temper  made 
rough  and  belligerent  by  constant  snubbing  and 
opposition. 

After  tea4hat  evening,  Fanny  proposed  that  Polly 
should  show  her  how  to  make  molasses  candy,  as  it 
was  cook's  holiday,  and  the  coast  would  be  clear. 
Hoping  to  propitiate  her  tormentor,  Fan  invited  Tom 
to  join  in  the  revel,  and  Polly  begged  that  Maud 
might  sit  up  and  see  the  fun ;  so  all  four  descended 
to  the  big  kitchen,  armed  with  aprons,  hammers, 
spoons,  and  pans,  and  Polly  assumed  command  of  the 
forces.  Tom  was  set  to  cracking  nuts,  and  Maud  to 
picking  out  the  meats,  for  the  candy  was  to  be  "  tip 
top."  Fan  waited  on  Polly  cook,  who  hovered  over 
the  kettle  of  boiling  molasses  till  her  face  was  the 


New   Fashions.  3 1 

color  of  a  peony.  "  Now,  put  in  the  nuts,"  she  said 
at  last ;  and  Tom  emptied  his  plate  into  the  foamy 
syrup,  while  the  others  watched  with  deep  interest 
the  mysterious  concoction  of  this  well-beloved  sweet 
meat.  "  I  pour  it  into  the  buttered  pan,  you  see,  and 
it  cools,  and  then  we  can  eat  it,"  explained  Polly, 
suiting  the  action  to  the  word. 

"Why,  it's  all  full  of  shells!"  exclaimed  Maud, 
peering  into  the  pan. 

"  Oh,  thunder !  I  must  have  put  'em  in  by  mis 
take,  and  ate  up  the  meats  without  thinking,"  said 
Tom,  trying  to  conceal  his  naughty  satisfaction,  aa 
the  girls  hung  over  the  pan  with  faces  full  of  disap 
pointment  and  despair. 

"  You  did  it  on  purpose,  you  horrid  boy  !  I'll  never 
let  }TOU  have  anything  to  do  with  my  fun  again ! " 
cried  Fan,  in  a  passion,  trying  to  catch  and  shake 
him,  while  ho  dodged  and  chuckled  in  high  glee. 

Maud  began  to  wail  over  her  lost  delight,  and  Polly 
gravely  poked  at  the  mess,  which  was  quite  spoilt. 
But  her  attention  was  speedily  diverted  by  the  squab 
ble  going  on  in  the  corner ;  for  Fanny,  forgetful  of 
her  young-ladyism  and  her  sixteen  years,  had  boxed 
Tom's  ears,  and  Tom,  resenting  the  insult,  had  forci 
bly  seated  her  in  the  coal-hod,  where  he  held  her  with 
one  hand  while  he  returned  the  compliment  with  the 
other.  Both  were  very  angry,  and  kept  twitting  one 
another  with  every  aggravation  they  could  invent,  as 
they  scolded  and  scuffled,  presenting  a  most  unlovely 
spectacle. 

Polly  was  not  a  model  girl  by  any  means,  and  had 
her  little  pets  and  tempers  like  the  rest  of  us  j  but  sl>« 


32  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

did  n't  fight,  scream,  and  squabble  with  her  brothers 
and  sisters  in  this  disgraceful  way,  and  was  much 
surprised  to  see  her  elegant  friend  in  such  a  passion. 
"  Oh,  don't !  Please,  don't !  You'll  hurt  her,  Tom  ! 
Let  him  go,  Fanny  !  It 's  no  matter  about  the  candy ; 
we  can  make  some  more  !  "  cried  Polly,  try  ing  to  part; 
them,  and  looking  so  distressed,  that  .they  stopped 
ashamed,  and  in  a  minute  sorry  that  she  should  see 
such  a  display  of  temper. 

u  I  ain't  going  to  be  hustled  round  ;  so  you  'd  bet 
ter  let  me  alone,  Fan,"  said  Tom,  drawing  off  with  a 
threatening  wag  of  the  head,  adding,  in  a  different 
tone,  "  I  only  put  the  shells  in  for  fun,  Polly.  You 
cook  another  kettleful,  and  I  '11  pick  }^ou  some  meats 
all  fair.  Will  you?" 

"It's  pretty  hot  work,  and  it's  a  pity  to  waste 
things  ;  but  I  '11  try  again,  if  you  want  me  to,"  said 
Polly,  with  a  patient  sigh,  for  her  arms  were  tired 
and  her  face  uncomfortably  hot. 

"  We  don't  want  you ;  get  away ! "  said  Maud, 
shaking  a  sticky  spoon  at  him. 

"  Keep  quiet,  cry-baby.  I  'm  going  to  stay  and 
help;  may  n't  I,  Polly?" 

"  Bears  like  sweet  things,  so  you  want  some  candy, 
I  guess.  Where  is  the  molasses  ?  We  've  used  up 
all  there  was  in  the  jug,"  said  Polly,  good-naturedly, 
beginning  again. 

"  Down  cellar  ;  I  '11  get  it ; "  and  taking  the  lamp 
and  jug,  Tom  departed,  bent  on  doing  his  duty  now 
like  a  saint. 

The  moment  his  light  vanished,  Fanny  bolted  the 
door,  saying,  spitefully,  "  Now,  we  are  safe  from  any 


New   Fashions.  33 

mote  tricks.  Let  him  thump  and  call,  it  only  serves 
him  right ;  and  when  the  candy  is  done,  we'll  let  the 
rascal  out." 

"How  can  we  make  it  without  molasses?"  asked 
Polly,  thinking  that  would  settle  the  matter. 

u There's  plenty  in  the  store-room.  No;  you 
shan't  let  him  up  till  I  'in  ready.  He 's  got  to  learn 
that  I  'm  not  to  be  shaken  by  a  little  chit  like  him. 
Make  your  candy,  and  let  him  alone,  or  I  '11  go  and 
tell  papa,  and  then  Tom  will  get  a  lecture." 

Polly  thought  it  was  n't  fair ;  but  Maud  clamored 
for  her  candy,  and  finding  she  could  do  nothing  to 
appease  Fan,  Polly  devoted  her  mind  to  her  cookery 
till  the  nuts  were  safely  in,  and  a  nice  panful  set  ic 
the  yard  to  cool.  A  few  bangs  at  the  locked  door,  & 
few  threats  of  vengeance  from  the  prisoner,  such  as 
setting  the  house  on  fire,  drinking  up  the  wine,  and 
smashing  the  jelly-pots,  and  then  all  was  so  quiet  that 
the  girls  forgot  him  in  the  exciting  crisis  of  their 
work. 

"  He  can't  possibly  get  out  anywhere,  and  as  soon 
as  we  've  cut  up  the  candy,  we  '11  unbolt  the  door  and 
run.  Come  and  get  a  nice  dish  to  put  it  in,"  said 
Fan,  when  Polly  proposed  to  go  halves  with  Tom, 
lest  he  should  come  bursting  in  somehow,  and  seize 
the  whole. 

When  they  came  down  with  the  dish  in  which  to 
set  forth  their  treat,  and  opened  the  back-door  to  find 
it,  imagine  their  dismay  on  discovering  that  it  was 
gone,  —  pan,  candy  and  all,  —  utterly  and  myste 
riously  gone ! 

A  general  lament  arose,  when  a  careful  rummage 

8 


34  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

left  no  hope ;  for  the  fates  had  evidently  decreed  that 
candy  was  not  to  prosper  on  this  unpropitious  night. 

"  The  hot  pan  has  melted  and  sunk  in  the  snow, 
perhaps/'  said  Fanny,  digging  into  the  drift  where  it 
was  left. 

"Those  old  cats  have  got  it,  I  guess,"  suggested 
Maud,  too  much  overwhelmed  by  this  second  blow  to 
howl  as  usual. 

"7 he  gate  isn't  locked,  and  some  beggar  has 
stolen  it.  I  hope  it  will  do  him  good,"  added  Polly, 
returning  from  her  exploring  expedition. 

"  If  Tom  could  get  out,  I  should  think  he  'd  carried 
it  off;  but  not  being  a  rat,  he  can't  go  through  the 
bits  of  windows  ;  so  it  was  n't  him,"  said  Fanny,  dis 
consolately,  for  she  began  to  think  this  double  loss  a 
punishment  for  letting  angry  passions  rise. 

"Let's  open  the  door  and  tell  him  about  it,"  pro 
posed  Polly. 

"He'll  crow. over  us.  No;  we'll  open  it  and  go 
to  bed,  and  he  can  come  out  when  he  likes.  Provok 
ing  boy !  if  he  had  n't  plagued  us  so,  we  should  have 
had  a  nice  time." 

Unbolting  the  cellar  door,  the  girls  announced  to 
the  invisible  captive  that  they  were  through,  and  then 
departed  much  depressed.  Half-way  up  the  second 
flight,  they  all  stopped  as  suddenly  as  if  they  had 
seen  a  ghost ;  for  looking  over  the  banisters  was 
Tom's  face,  crocky  but  triumphant,  and  in  either 
hand  a  junk  of  candy,  which  he  waved  above  them  as 
he  vanished,  with  the  tantalizing  remark,  "  Don't  you 
wish  you  had  some  ?  " 

"  How  in  the  world  did  he  get  out  ?  "  cried  Fanny, 


New   Fashions.  35 

steadying  herself  after  a  start  that  nearly  sent  all 
three  tumbling  down  stairs. 

"  Coal-hole ! "  answered  a  spectral  voice  from  the 
gloom  above. 

"  Good  gracious !  He  must  have  poked  up  the 
cover,  climbed  into  the  street,  stole  the  candy,  and 
sneaked  in  at  the  shed-window  while  we  were  looking 
for  it." 

"  Cats  got  it,  didn't  they?"  jeered  the  voice  in  a 
tone  that  made  Polly  sit  down  and  laugh  till  she 
could  n't  laugh  any  longer. 

"  Just  give  Maud  a  bit,  she 's  so  disappointed.  Fan 
and  I  are  sick  of  it,  and*so  will  you  be,  if  you  eat  it 
all,"  called  Polly,  when  she  got  her  breath. 

"Go  .to  bed,  Maudie,  and  look  under  your  pillow 
when  you  get  there,"  was  the  oracular  reply  that 
came  down  to  them,  as  Tom's  door  closed  after  a 
jubilant  solo  on  the  tin  pan. 

The  girls  went  to  bed  tired  out ;  and  Maud  slum 
bered  placidly,  hugging  the  sticky  bundle,  found 
where  molasses  candy  is  not  often  discovered.  Polly 
was  very  tired,  and  soon  fell  asleep  ;  but  Fanny,  who 
slept  with  her,  lay  awake  longer  than  usual,  thinking 
about  her  troubles,  for  her  head  ached,  and  the  dis 
satisfaction  that  follows  anger  would  not  let  her  rest 
with  the  tranquillity  that  made  the  rosy  face  in  the  lit 
tle  round  nightcap  such  a  pleasant  sight  to  see  as  it 
lay  beside  her.  The  gas  was  turned  down,  but  Fanny 
saw  a  figure  in  a  gray  wrapper  creep  by  her  door,  and 
presently  return,  pausing  to  look  in.  "  Who  is  it?  " 
she  cried,  so  loud  that  Polly  woke. 

"  Only  me,  dear,"  answered  grandma's  mild  voice. 


36  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

"  Poor  Tom  has  got  a  dreadful  toothache,  and  I  came 
down  to  find  some  creosote  for  him.  He  told  me  not 
to  tell  you  ;  but  I  can't  find  the  bottle,  and  don't 
want  to  disturb  mamma." 

"  It  *s  in  my  closet.  Old  Tom  will  pay  for  his  trick 
this  time,"  said  Fanny,  in  a  satisfied  tone. 

"  I  thought  he  'd  get  enough  of  our  candy,"  laughed 
Polly  ;  and  then  they  fell  asleep,  leaving  Tom  to  the 
delights  of  toothache  and  the  tender  mercies  of  kind 
old  grandma. 


CHAPTER  in. 

POLLY'S    TROUBLES. 

POLLY  soon  found  that  she  was  in  a  new  world,  a 
world  where  the  manners  and  customs  were  so 
different  from  the  simple  ways  at  home,  that  she  fell 
like  a  stranger  in  a  strange  land,  and  often  wished 
that  she  had  not  come.  In  the  first  place,  she  had 
nothing  to  do  but  lounge  and  gossip,  read  novels, 
parade  the  streets,  and  dress ;  and  before  a  week  was 
gone,  she  was  as  heartily  sick  of  all  this,  as  a  healthy 
person  would  be  who  attempted  to  live  on  confection 
ery.  Fanny  liked  it,  because  she  was  used  to  it,  and 
had  never  known  anything  better  ;  but  Polly  had,  and 
often  felt  like  a  little  wood-bird  shut  up  in  a  gilded 
cage.  Nevertheless,  she  was  much  impressed  by  the 
luxuries  all  about  her,  enjoyed  them,  wished  she 
owned  them,  and  wondered  why  the  Shaws  were  not 
a  happier  family.  She  was  not  wise  enough  to  know 
where  the  trouble  lay ;  she  did  not  attempt  to  say 
which  of  the  two  lives  was  the  right  one ;  she  only 
knew  which  she  liked  best,  and  supposed  it  was 
merely  another  of  her  "  old-fashioned  "  ways. 

Fanny's  friends  did  not  interest  her  much  ;  she  was 
rather  afraid  of  them,  they  seemed  so  much  older  and 
wiser  than  herself,  even  those  younger  in  years 


38  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

They  talked  about  things  of  which  she  knew  nothing, 
and  when  Fanny  tried  to  explain,  she  did  n't  find  them 
interesting  ;  indeed,  some  of  them  rather  shocked  and 
puzzled  her ;  so  the  girls  let  her  alone,  being  civil 
when  they  met,  but  evidently  feeling  that  she  was  too 
"  odd  "  to  belong  to  their  set.  Then  she  turned  to 
Maud  for  companionship,  for  her  own  little  sister  was 
excellent  company,  and  Polly  loved  her  dearly.  But 
Miss  Maud  was  much  absorbed  in  her  own  affairs,  for 
she  belonged  to  a  "  set "  also  ;  aod  these  mites  of  five 
and  six  had  their  "  musicals,"  their  parties,  recep 
tions,  and  promenades,  as  well  as  their  elders ;  and 
the  chief  idea  of  their  little  lives  seemed  to  be  to  ape 
the  fashionable  follies  they  should  have  been  too  inno 
cent  to  understand.  Maud  had  her  tiny  card-case,  and 
paid  calls,  "  like  mamma  and  Fan  "  ;  her  box  of  dainty 
gloves,  her  jewel-drawer,  her  crimping-pins,  as  fine 
and  fanciful  a  wardrobe  as  a  Paris  doll,  and  a  French 
maid  to  dress  her.  Polly  could  n't  get  on  with  her  at 
first,  for  Maud  did  n't  seem  like  a  child,  and  often 
corrected  Polly  in  her  conversation  and  manners, 
though  little  mademoiselle's  own  were  anything  but 
perfect.  Now  and  then,  when  Maud  felt  poorly,  or 
had  a  "fwactious"  turn,  for  she  had  "nerves"  as 
well  as  mamma,  she  would  go  to  Polly  to  be 
"  amoosed,"  for  her  gentle  ways  and  kind  forbearance 
soothed  the  little  fine  lady  better  than  anything 
else.  Polly  enjoyed  these  times,  and  told  stories, 
played  games,  or  went  out  walking,  just  as  Maud 
liked,  slowly  and  surely  winning  the  child's  heart,  and 
relieving  the  whole  house  of  the  young  tyrant  who 
ruled  it. 


Polly  s  Troubles.  39 

Toin  soon  got  over  staring  at  Polly,  and  at  first  did 
not  take  much  notice  of  her,  for,  in  his  opinion,  "  girls 
did  n't  amount  to  much,  any  way  "  ;  and,  considering 
the  style  of  girl  he  knew  most  about,  Polly  quite 
agreed  with  him.  He  occasionally  refreshed  himself 
by  teasing  her,  to  see  how  she  'd  stand  it,  and  caused 
Polly  much  anguish  of  spirit,  for  she  never  knew 
where  he  would  take  her  next.  He  bounced  out  at 
her  from  behind  doors,  booed  at  her  in  dark  entries, 
clutched  her  feet  as  she  went  up-stairs,  startled  her 
by  shrill  whistles  right  in  her  ear,  or  sudden  tweaks 
of  the  hair  as  he  passed  her  in  the  street ;  and  as  sure 
as  there  was  company  to  dinner,  he  fixed  his  round 
eyes  on  her,  and  never  took  them  off  till  she  was 
reduced  to  a  piteous  state  of  confusion  and  distress. 
She  used  to  beg  him  not  to  plague  her ;  but  he  said 
he  did  it  for  her  good  ;  she  was  too  shy,  and  needed 
toughening  like  the  other  girls.  In  vain  she  protested 
that  she  did  n't  want  to  be  like  the  other  girls  in  that 
respect ;  he  only  laughed  in  her  face,  stuck  his  red 
hair  straight  up  all  over  his  head,  and  glared  at  her, 
till  she  fled  in  dismay. 

Yet  Polly  rather  liked  Tom,  for  she  soon  saw  that 
he  was  neglected,  hustled  out  of  the  way,  and  left  to 
get  on  pretty  much  by  himself.  She  often  wondered 
wh}r  his  mother  did  n't  pet  him  as  she  did  the  girls  ; 
why  his  father  ordered  him  about  as  if  he  was  a  born 
rebel,  and  took  so  little  interest  in  his  only  son. 
Fanny  considered  him  a  bear,  and  was  ashamed  of 
him,  but  never  tried  to  polish  him  up  a  bit;  and 
Maud  and  he  lived  together  like  a  cat  and  dog  who 
did  not  belong  to  a  "  happy  family."  Grandma  was 


40  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

the  only  one  who  stood  by  poor  old  Tom  ;  and  Polly 
more  than  once  discovered  him  doing  something  kind 
for  Madam,  and  seeming  very  much  ashamed  when  it 
was  found  out.  He  was  n't  respectful  at  all ;  he 
called  her  "  the  old  lady,"  and  told  her  he  "  would  n't 
be  fussed  over  "  ;  but  when  anything  was  the  matter, 
he  always  went  to  "  the  old  lady,"  and  was  very 
grateful  for  the  "  fussing."  Polly  liked  him  for  this, 
and  often  wanted  to  speak  of  it ;  but  sha  had  a  feel 
ing  that  it  would  n't  do,  for  in  praising  their  affection, 
she  was  reproaching  others  With  neglect ;  so  she  held 
her  tongue,  and  thought  about  it  all  the  more. 

Grandma  was  rather  neglected,  too,  and  perhaps 
that  is  the  reason  why  Tom  and  she  were  such  good 
friends.  She  was  even  more  old-fashioned  than  Polly  ; 
but  people  did  n't  seem  to  mind  it  so  much  in  her,  as 
her  day  was  supposed  to  be  over,  and  nothing  was 
expected  of  her  but  to  keep  out  of  everybody's  way, 
and  to  be  handsomely  dressed  when  she  appeared 
"  before  people."  Grandma  led  a  quiet,  solitary  life 
up  in  her  own  rooms,  full  of  old  furniture,  pictures, 
books,  and  relics  of  a  past  for  which  no  one  cared  but 
herself.  Her  son  went  up  every  evening  for  a  little 
call,  was  very  kind  to'  her,  and  saw  that  she  wanted 
nothing  money  could  buy  ;  but  he  was  a  busy  man,  so 
intent  on  getting  rich  that  he  had  no  time  to  enjoy 
^  hat  he  already  possessed.  Madam  never  complained, 
interfered,  or  suggested ;  but  there  was  a  sad  sort  ol 
quietude  about  her,  a  wistful  look  in  her  faded  eyes, 
as  if  she  wanted  something  which  money  could  not , 
buy,  and  when  children  were  near,  she  hovered  about 
them,  evidently  longing  to  cuddle  and  caress  them  as 


Pollys  Troubles.  41 

only  grandmothers  can.  Polly  felt  this  ;  and,  as  she 
missed  the  home-petting,  gladly  showed  that  she  liked 
to  see  the  quiet  old  face  brighten  as  she  entered  the 
solitary  room,  where  few  children  came,  except  the 
phantoms  of  little  sons  and  daughters,  who,  to  the 
motherly  heart  that  loved  them,  never  faded  or  grew 
up.  Polly  wished  the  children  would  be  kinder  to 
grandma ;  but  it  was  not  for  her  to  tell  them  so, 
although  it  troubled  her  a  good  deal,  and  she  could 
only  try  to  make  up  for  it  by  being  as  dutiful  and 
affectionate  as  if  their  grandma  was  her  own. 

Another  thing  that  disturbed  Polly  was  the  want  of 
exercise.  To  dress  up  and  parade  certain  streets  for 
an  hour  every  day,  to  stand  talking  in  doorways,  or 
drive  out  in  a  line  carriage,  was  not  the  sort  of  exer 
cise  she  liked,  and  Fan  would  take  no  other.  Indeed, 
she  was  so  shocked,  when  Polly,  one  day,  proposed  a 
run  clown  the  mall,  that  her  friend  never  dared  sug 
gest  such  a  thing  again.  At  home,  Polly  ran  and 
rode,  coasted  and  skated,  jumped  rope  and  raked  hay, 
worked  in  her  garden  and  rowed  her  boat ;  so  no 
wonder  she  longed  for  something  more  lively  than  a 
daily  promenade  with  a  flock  of  giddy  girls,  who 
tilted  along  in  high-heeled  boots,  and  costumes  which 
made  Polly  ashamed  to  be  seen  with  some  of  them. 
So  she  used  to  slip  out  alone  sometimes,  when  Fanny 
was  absorbed  in  novels,  company,  or  millinery,  and 
get  fine  brisk  walks  round  the  park,  on  the  unfashiona 
ble  side,  where  the  babies  took  their  airings  ;  or  she 
went  inside,  to  watch  the  boys  coasting,  and  to  wish 
she  could  coast  too,  as  she  did  at  home.  She  never 
went  far,  and  always  came  back  rosy  and  gay. 


42  An   Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

One  afternoon,  just  before  dinner,  she  felt  so  tired 
of  doing  nothing,  that  she  slipped  out  for  a  run.  It 
had  been  a  dull  day  ;  but  the  sun  was  visible  now,  set 
ting  brightly  below  the  clouds.  It  was  cold  but  still, 
and  Polly  trotted  down  the  smooth,  snow-covered  mall, 
humming  to  herself,  and  trying  not  to  feel  homesick. 
The  coasters  were  at  it  with  all  their  might,  and  she 
watched  them,  till  her  longing  to  join  the  fun  grew 
irresistible.  On  the  hill,  some  little  girls  were  play 
ing  with  their  sleds,  —  real  little  girls,  in  warm  hoods 
and  coats,  rubber  boots  and  mittens,  —  and  Polly  felt 
drawn  toward  them  in  spite  of  her  fear  of  Fan. 

"  I  want  to  go  down,  but  I  darsn't,  it's  so  steep," 
said  one  of  these  "  common  children,"  as  Maud  called 
them. 

"  If  you  '11  lend  me  your  sled,  and  sit  in  my  lap, 
I  '11  take  you  down  all  nice,"  answered  Polly,  in  a 
confidential  tone. 

The  little  girls  took  a  look  at  her,  seemed  satisfied, 
and  accepted  her  offer.  Polly  looked  carefully  round 
to  see  that  no  fashionable  eye  beheld  the  awful  deed, 
and  finding  all  safe,  settled  her  freight,  and  spun 
away  down  hill,  feeling  all  over  the  delightsome 
excitement  of  swift  motion  which  makes  coasting 
such  a  favorite  pastime  with  the  more  sensible  portion 
of  the  child-world.  One  after  another,  she  took  the 
little  girls  down  the  hill  and  dragged  them  up  again, 
while  they  regarded  her  in  the  light  of  a  gray-coated 
angel,  descended  for  their  express  benefit.  Polly  was 
just  finishing  off  with  one  delicious  "  go  "  all  by  her 
self,  when  she  heard  a  familiar  whistle  behind  her, 
and  before  she  could  get  off,  up  came  Tom,  looking 


Polly  s  Troubles.  43 

aa  much  astonished  as  if  he  had  found  her  mounted 
on  an  elephant. 

"Hullo,  Polly!  What '11  Fan  say  to  you?"  waa 
his  polished  salutation. 

"  Don't  know,  and  don't  care.  Coasting  is  no 
harm ;  I  like  it,  and  I  'm  going  to  do  it,  now  I  've  got 
a  chance  ;  so  clear  the  lul-la !"  And  away  went  inde 
pendent  Polly,  with  her  hair  blowing  in  the  wind,  and 
an  expression  of  genuine  enjojinent,  which  a  very  red 
nose  did  n't  damage  in  the  least. 

"  Good  for  you,  Polly  !"  And  casting  himself  upon 
his  sled,  with  the  most  reckless  disregard  for  his  ribs, 
off  whizzed  Tom  after  her,  and  came  alongside  just  as 
she  reined  up  "  General  Grant "  on  the  broad  path 
below.  "Oh,  won't  you  get  it  when  we  go  home?" 
cried  the  young  gentleman,  even  before  he  changed 
his  graceful  attitude. 

"  I  shan't,  if  you  don't  go  and  tell ;  but  of  course 
you  will,"  added  Polly,  sitting  still,  while  an  anxious 
expression  began  to  steal  over  her  happy  face. 

"  I  just  won't,  then,"  returned  Tom,  with  the  nat- 
aral  perversity  of  his  tribe. 

"  If  they  ask  me,  I  shall  tell,  of  course ;  if  they 
don't  ask,  I  think  there's  no  harm  in  keeping  still. 
I  should  n't  have  done  it,  if  I  had  n't  known  my  mother 
was  willing  ;  but  I  don't  wish  to  trouble,  your  mother 
by  telling  of  it.  Do  you  think  it  was  very  dreadful 
of  me  ?  "  asked  Polly,  looking  at  him. 

"  I  think  it  was  downright  jolly  ;  and  I  won't  tell, 
if  you  don't  want  me  to.  Now,  come  up  and  have 
another,"  said  Tom,  heartily. 

"Just  one  more;  the  little  girls  want  to  go,  and 
this  is  their  slrd." 


44  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

"  Let  'era  take  it,  't  is  n't  good  for  much  ;  and  you 
come  on  mine.  Mazeppa  's  a  stunner ;  you  see  if  he 
isn't." 

So  Polly  tucked  herself  up  in  front,  Tom  hung  en 
behind  in  some  mysterious  manner,  and  Mazeppa 
proved  that  he  fully  merited  his  master's  sincere  if 
inelegant  praise.  They  got  on  capitally  now,  for 
Tom  was  in  his  proper  sphere,  and  showed  his  best 
side,  being  civil  and  gay  in  the  bluff  boy-fashion  that 
was  natural  to  him ;  while  Polly  forgot  to  be  shy,  and 
liked  this  sort  of  "  toughening  "  much  better  than  the 
other.  They  laughed  and  talked,  and  kept  taking 
"just  one  more,"  till  the  sunshine  was  all  gone,  and 
the  clocks  struck  dinner-time. 

"  We  shall  be  late  ;  let's  run,"  said  Polly,  as  they 
came  into  the  path  after  the  last  coast. 

"  You  just  sit  still,  and  I  '11  get  you  home  in  a 
jiffy ; "  and  before  she  could  unpack  herself,  Tom 
trotted  off  with  her  at  a  fine  pace. 

"  Here 's  a  pair  of  cheeks  !  I  wish  you  'd  get  a 
color  like  this,  Fanny,"  said  Mr.  Shaw,  as  Polly  came 
into  the  dining-room  after  smoothing  her  hair. 

"  Your  nose  is  as  red  as  that  cranberry  sauce," 
answered  Fan,  coming  out  of  the  big  chair  where  she 
had  been  curled  up  for  an  hour  or  two,  deep  in  "  Lady 
Audley's  Secret." 

"  So  it  is,"  said  Polly,  shutting  one  eye  to  look  at 
the  offending  feature.  "  Never  mind ;  I  've  had  a 
good  time,  anyway,"  she  added,  giving  a  little  prance 
in  her  chair. 

"  I  don't  see  much  fun  in  these  cold  runs  you  are 
so  fond  of  taking,"  said  Fanny,  with  a  yawn  and  A 
shiver. 


Pollys   Troubles.  45 

"  Perhaps  you  would  if  you  tried  it ; "  and  Polly 
laughed  as  she  glanced  at  Tom. 

"  Did  you  go  alone,  dear  ?  "  asked  grandma,  patting 
the  rosy  cheek  beside  her. 

44  Yes  'm ;  but  I  met  Tom,  and  we  came  home 
together."  Polly's  eyes  twinkled  when  she  said  that, 
and  Tom  choked  in  his  soup. 

u  Thomas,  leave  the  table  !  "  commanded  Mr.  Shaw, 
as  his  incorrigible  son  gurgled  and  gasped  behind  his 
napkin. 

"  Please,  don't  send  him  away,  sir.  I  made  him 
laugh,"  said  Polly,  penitently. 

u  What's  the  joke?"  asked  Fanny,  waking  up  at 
last. 

"  I  should  n't  think  you'd  make  him  laugh,  when 
he 's  always  making  you  cwy,"  observed  Maud,  who 
had  just  come  in. 

44 What  have  you  been  doing  now,  sir?"  demanded 
Mr.  Shaw,  as  Tom  emerged,  red  and  solemn,  from  his 
brief  obscurit}7". 

u  Nothing  but  coast,"  he  said,  gruffly,  for  papa  was 
always  lecturing  him,  and  letting  the  girls  do  just  as 
they  liked. 

44  So 's  Polly  ;  I  saw  her.  Me  and  Blanche  were 
coming  home  just  now,  and  we  saw  her  and  Tom  wid- 
ing  down  the  hill  on  his  sled,  and  then  he  dwagged 
aer  ever  so  far !  "  cried  Maud,  with  her  mouthful. 

44  You  did  n't  ?  "  And  Fanny  dropped  her  fork  with 
a  scandalized  face. 

44  Yes,  I  did,  and  liked  it  ever  so  much,"  answered 
Polly,  looking  anxious  but  resolute. 

"Did  any  one  see  you?"  cried  Fanny, 


46  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

"  Only  some  little  girls,  and  Tom." 

"  It  was  horridly  improper ;  and  Torn  ought  to 
have  told  you  so,  if  you  did  n't  know  any  better.  1 
should  be  mortified  to  death  if  any  of  my  friends  saw 
you,"  added  Fan,  much  disturbed. 

"  Now,  don't  you  scold.  It 's  no  harm,  and  Polly 
shall  coast  if  she  wants  to  ;  may  n't  she,  grandma  ?  " 
cried  Tom,  gallantly  coming  to  the  rescue,  and  secur 
ing  a  powerful  ally. 

"  My  mother  lets  me  ;  and  if  I  don't  go  among  the 
boys,  I  can't  see  what  harm  there  is  in  it,"  said  Polly, 
before  Madam  could  speak. 

u  People  do  many  things  in  the  country  that  are 
not  proper  here,"  began  Mrs.  Shaw,  in  her  reproving 
tone. 

"  Let  the  child  do  it  if  she  likes,  and  take  Maud 
with  her.  I  should  be  glad  to  have  one  hearty  girl  in 
my  house,"  interrupted  Mr.  Shaw,  and  that  was  the 
end  of  it. 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Polly,  gratefully,  and 
nodded  at  Tom,  who  telegraphed  back  "  All  right !  " 
and  fell  upon  his  dinner  with  the  appetite  of  a  young 
wolf. 

"  Oh,  you  sly-boots  !  you  're  getting  up  a  flirtation 
with  Tom,  are  you  ?  "  whispered  Fanny  to  her  friend, 
as  if  much  amused. 

"  What ! "  and  Polly  looked  so  surprised  and  in 
dignant,  that  Fanny  was  ashamed  of  herself,  and 
changed  the  subject  by  telling  her  mother  she  needed 
some  new  gloves. 

Polly  was  very  quiet  after  that,  and  the  minute 
dinner  was  over,  she  left  the  room  to  go  and  have  a 


Pollys  Troubles.  47 

quiet  "  think  "  about  the  whole  matter.  Before  she 
got  half-way  up  stairs,  she  saw  Tom  coming  after, 
and  immediately  sat  down  to  guard  her  feet.  He 
laughed,  and  said,  as  he  perched  himself  on  the  post 
of  the  banisters,  "  I  won't  grab  you,  honor  bright. 
I  just  wanted  to  say,  if  you  '11  come  out  to-morrow 
some  time,  we  '11  have  a  good  coast." 

"  No,"  said  Polly,  "  I  can't  come." 

k'  Why  not  ?  Are  you  mad  ?  I  did  n't  tell."  And 
Tom  looked  amazed  at  the  change  which  had  come 
over  her. 

"  No  ;  you  kept  your  word,  and  stood  by  me  like  a 
good  boy.  I  'm  not  mad,  either  ;  but  I  don't  mean  to 
coast  any  more.  Your  mother  don't  like  it." 

u  That  is  n't  the  reason,  /  know.  You  nodded  to 
me  after  she  'd  freed  her  mind,  and  you  meant  to  go 
then.  Come,  now,  what  is  it?" 

"  I  shan't  tell  you  ;  but  I  'm  not  going,"  was  Polly's 
determined  answer. 

u  Well,  I  >did  think  you  had  more  sense  than  most 
girls ;  but  you  have  n't,  and  I  would  n't  give  a  six 
pence  for  you." 

"  That 's  polite,"  said  Polly,  getting  ruffled. 

"  Well,  I  hate  cowards." 

"  I  ain't  a  coward." 

"  Yes,  you  are.  You  're  afraid  of  what  folks  will 
say  ;  ain't  you,  now  ?  " 

Polly  knew  she  was,  and  held  her  peace,  though 
she  longed  to  speak  ;  but  how  could  she  ? 

"  Ah,  I  knew  you  'd  back  out."  And  Tom  walked 
away  with  an  air  of  scorn  that  cut  Polly  to  the  heart. 

"  It 's  too  bad !     Just  as  he  was  growing  kind  to 


48  An  O Id-Fashioned  GirL 

me,  and  I  was  going  to  have  a  good  time,  it's  all 
spoilt  by  Fan's  nonsense.  Mrs.  Shaw  don't  like  rt, 
nor  grandma  either,  I  dare  say.  There  '11  be  a  fuss 
if  I  go,  and  Fan  will  plague  me ;  so  I'll  give  it  up, 
and  let  Tom  think  I  'm  afraid.  Oh,  dear !  I  never 
did  see  such  ridiculous  people." 

Polly  shut  her  door  hard,  and  felt  ready  to  cry 
with  vexation,  that  her  pleasure  should  be  spoilt  by 
such  a  silly  idea ;  for,  of  all  the  silly  freaks  of  this 
fast  age,  that  of  little  people  playing  at  love  is  about 
the  silliest.  Polly  had  been  taught  that  it  was  a  very 
serious  and  sacred  thing ;  and,  according  to  her  no 
tions,  it  was  far  more  improper  to  flirt  with  one  boy 
than  to  coast  with  a  dozen.  She  had  been  much 
amazed,  only  the  day  before,  to  hear  Maud  say  to 
her  mother,  "  Mamma,  must  I  have  a  beau?  The 
girls  all  do,  and  say  I  ought  to  have  Fweddy  Lovell ; 
but  I  don't  like  him  as  well  as  Hawry  Fiske." 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  I  'd  have  a  little  sweetheart,  dear,  it 's 
so  cunning,"  answered  Mrs.  Shaw.  And  Maud  an 
nounced  soon  after  that  she  was  engaged  to  "  Fweddy, 
'cause  Hawry  slapped  her "  when  she  proposed  the 
match. 

Polly  laughed  with  the  rest  at  the  time  ;  but  when 
the  thought  of  it  afterward,  and  wondered  what  her 
own  mother  would  have  said,  if  little  Kitty  had  put 
such  a  question,  she  did  n't  find  it  cunning  or  funny, 
but  ridiculous  and  unnatural.  She  felt  so  now  about 
herself;  and  when  her  first  petulance  was  over,  re- 
solved  to  give  up  coasting  and  everything  else,  rather 
than  have  any  nonsense  with  Tom,  who,  thanks  to  his 
neglected  education,  was  as  ignorant  as  herself  of  the 


Pollys  Troubles.  49 

charms  of  this  new  amusement  for  school-children. 
So  Polly  tried  to  console  herself  by  jumping  rope  in 
the  back-yard,  and  playing  tag  with  Maud  in  the  dry 
ing-room,  where  she  likewise  gave  lessons  in  "  nas- 
gim-nics,"  as  Maud  called  it,  which  did  that  little 
person  good.  Fanny  came  up  sometimes  to  teach 
them  a  new  dancing  step,  and  more  than  once  was 
betrayed  into  a  game  of  romps,  for  which  she  was 
none  the  worse.  But  Tom  turned  a  cold  shoulder  to 
Polly,  and  made  it  evident,  by  his  cavalier  manner, 
that  he  really  did  n't  think  her  "  worth  a  sixpence." 

Another  thing  that  troubled  Polly  was  her  clothes, 
for,  though  no  one  said  anything,  she  knew  they  were 
very  plain ;  and  now  and  then  she  wished  that  her 
blue  and  mouse  colored  merinos  were  rather  more 
trimmed,  her  sashes  had  bigger  bows,  and  her  little 
ruffles  more  lace  on  them.  She  sighed  for  a  locket, 
and,  for  the  first  time  in  her  life,  thought  seriously  of 
turning  up  her  pretty  curls  and  putting  on  a  "  wad." 
She  kept  these  discontents  to  herself,  however,  after 
she  had  written  to  ask  her  mother  if  she  might  have 
her  best  dress  altered  like  Fanny's,  and  received  this 
reply : 

"  No,  dear ;  the  dress  is  proper  and  becoming  as  it 
is,  and  the  old  fashion  of  simplicity  the  best  for  all 
of  us.  I  don't  want  my  Polly  to  be  loved  for  her 
clothes,  but  for  herself;  so  wear  the  plain  frocks 
mother  took  such  pleasure  in  making  for  you,  and 
let  the  panniers  go.  The  least  of  us  have  some  influ 
ence  in  this  big  world ;  and  perhaps  my  little  girl  can 
do  some  good  by  showing  others  that  a  contented 
bear  t  and  a  happy  face  are  better  ornaments  than  any 

4 


50  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

Paris  can  give  her.  You  want  a  locket,  deary ;  so  I 
send  one  that  my  mother  gave  me  years  ago.  You 
will  find  father's  face  on  one  side,  mine  on  the  other ; 
and  when  things  trouble  you,  just  look  at  your  talis 
man,  and  I  think  the  sunshine  will  come  back  again." 

Of  course  it  did,  for  the  best  of  all  magic  was 
shut  up  in  the  quaint  little  case  that  Polly  wore  inside 
her  frock,  and  kissed  so  tenderly  each  night  and 
morning.  The  thought  that,  insignificant  as  she 
was,  she  yet  might  do  some  good,  made  her  very 
careful  of  her  acts  and  words,  and  so  anxious  to  keep 
heart  contented  and  face  happy,  that  she  forgot  her 
clothes,  and  made  others  do  the  "same.  She  did  not 
know  it,  but  that  good  old  fashion  of  simplicity  made 
the  plain  gowns  pretty,  and  the  grace  of  unconscious 
ness  beautified  their  little  wearer  with  the  charm  that 
makes  girlhood  sweetest  to  those  who  truly  love 
and  reverence  it.  One  temptation  Polly  had  already 
yielded  to  before  the  letter  came,  and  repented  heart 
ily  of  afterward. 

"  Polly,  I  wish  you  'd  let  me  call  you  Marie,"  said 
Fanny  one  day,  as  they  were  shopping  together. 

"  You  may  call  me  Mary,  if  you  like  ;  but  I  won't 
have  any  ie  put  on  to  my  name.  I  'm  Polly  at  home, 
and  I  'm  fond  of  being  called  so  ;  but  Marie  is  French 
ified  and  silly." 

"  I  spell  my  own  name  with  an  ie,  and  so  do  all  the 
girls." 

"  And  what  a  jumble  of  Netties,  Nellies,  Hatties, 
and  Sallies  there  is.  How  '  Pollie  *  would  look  spelt 
so!" 

"  Well,  never  mind ;  that  was  n't  what  I  began  to 


Pollys   Troubles.  51 

say.     There 's  one  thing  you  must  have,  and  that  is, 
bronze  boots,"  said  Fan,  impressively. 

"  Why  must  I,  when  I've  got  enough  without?" 

"  Because  it 's  the  fashion  to  have  them,  and  you 
can't  be  finished  oif  properly  without.  I  'm  going  to 
get  a  pair,  and  so  must  you." 

"  Don't  they  cost  a  great  deal?" 

44  Eight  or  nine  dollars,  I  believe.  I  have  mine 
charged ;  but  it  don't  matter  if  you  have  n't  got  the 
monejr.  I  can  lend  you  some." 

"  I've  got  ten  dollars  to  do  what  I  like  with ;  but 
I  meant  to  get  some  presents  for  the  children."'  And 
Polly  took  out  her  purse  in  an  undecided  way. 

"  You  can  make  presents  easy  enough.  Grandma 
knows  all  sorts  of  nice  contrivances.  They'll  do 
just  as  well ;  and  then  you  can  get  your  boots." 

"Well;  I'll  look  at  them,"  said  Polly,  following 
Fanny  into  the  store,  feeling  rather  rich  and  impor 
tant  to  be  shopping  in  this  elegant  manner. 
•  "  Are  n't  they  lovely  ?  Your  foot  is  perfectly  divine 
in  that  boot,  Polly.  Get  them  for  my  party  ;  you  '11 
dance  like  a  fairy,"  whispered  Fan. 

Polly  surveyed  the  dainty,  shining  boot  with  the 
scalloped  top,  the  jaunty  heel,  and  the  delicate  toe, 
thought  her  foot  did  look  very  well  in  it,  and  after  a 
little  pause,  said  she  would  have  them.  It  was  all 
very  delightful  till  she  got  home,  and  was  alone ; 
then,  on  looking  into  her  purse,  she  saw  one  dollar 
and  the  list  of  things  she  meant  to  get  for  mother 
and  the  children.  How  mean  the  dollar  looked 
all  alone!  and  how  long  the  list  grew  when  there 
was  nothing  to  buy  the  articles. 


52  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

"  I  can't  make  skates  for  Ned,  nor  a  desk  for 
Will ;  and  those  are  what  they  have  set  their  hearts 
upon.  Father's  book  and  mother's  collar  are  impos 
sible  now ;  and  I  'm  a  selfish  thing  to  go  and  spend 
all  my  money  for  myself.  How  could  I  do  it  ?  "  And 
Polly  eyed  the  new  boots  reproachfully,  as  they  stood 
in  the  first  position  as  if  ready  for  the  party.  "  They 
are  lovely ;  but  I  don't  believe  they  will  feel  good,  for 
I  shall  be  thinking  about  my  lost  presents  all  the 
time,"  sighed  Polly,  pushing  the  enticing  boots  out 
of  sight.  "I'll  go  and  ask  grandma  what  I  can  do  ; 
for  if  I've  got  to  make  something  for  every  one,  I 
must  begin  right  away,  or  I  shan't  get  done ; "  and 
off  she  bustled,  glad  to  forget  her  remorse  in  hard 
work. 

Grandma  proved  equal  to  the  emergency,  and 
planned  something  for  every  one,  supplying  mate 
rials,  taste,  and  skill  in  the  most  delightful  manner. 
Polly  felt  much  comforted ;  but  while  she  began  to 
knit  a  pretty  pair  of  white  bed-socks,  to  be  tied  with 
rose-colored  ribbons,  for  her  mother,  she  thought 
some  very  sober  thoughts  upon  the  subject  of  tempta 
tion  ;  and  if  any  one  had  asked  her  just  then  what 
made  her  sigh,  as  if  something  lay  heavy  on  her  con 
science,  she  would  have  answered,  "Bronze  boots." 


CHAPTER  IV. 


LITTLE    THINGS. 

((TT'S  so  wainy,  I  can't  go  out,  and  evwybody  is 

-*•  so  cwoss  they  won't  play  with  me,"  said  Maud, 
when  Polly  found  her  fretting  on  the  stairs,  and 
paused  to  ask  the  cause  of  her  wails. 

11 1  '11  play  with  you  ;  only  don't  scream  and  wake 
your  mother.  What  shall  we  play  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know ;  I  'm  tired  of  evwything,  'cause  my 
toys  are  all  bwoken,  and  my  dolls  are  all  sick  but 
Clawa,"  moaned  Maud,  giving  a  jerk  to  the  Paris  doll 
which  she  held  upside  down  by  one  leg  in  the  most 
unmaternal  manner. 

"  I'm  going  to  dress  a  dolly  for  my  little  sister; 
would  n't  you  like  to  see  me  do  it  ?  "  asked  Polly,  per 
suasively,  hoping  to  beguile  the  cross  child  and  finish 
her  own  work  at  the  same  time. 

"  No,  I  should  n't,  'cause  she'll  look  nicer  than  my 
Clawa.  Her  clothes  won't  come  off;  and  Tom  spoilt 
'em  picking  ball  with  her  in  £he  yard." 

"  Would  n't  you  like  to  rip  these  clothes  off,  and 
have  me  show  you  how  to  make  some  new  ones,  so 
you  can  dress  and  undress  Clara  as  much  as  you 
like?" 


54  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

**  Yes ;  I  love  to  cut."  And  Maud's  face  bright 
ened  ;  for  destructiveness  is  one  of  the  earliest  traits 
of  childhood,  and  ripping  was  Maud's  delight. 

Establishing  themselves  in  the  deserted  dining- 
room,  the  children  fell  to  work ;  and  when  Fanny 
discovered  them,  Maud  was  laughing  with  all  her 
heart  at  poor  Clara,  who,  denuded  of  her  finery,  was 
cutting  up  all  sorts  of  capers  in  the  hands  of  her 
merry  little  mistress. 

"  I  should  think  you  M  be  ashamed  to  play  with 
dolls,  Polly.  I  haven't  touched  one  this  ever  so 
long,"  said  Fanny,  looking  down  with  a  superior 
air. 

"  I  ain't  ashamed,  for  it  keeps  Maud  happy,  and 
will  please  my  sister  Kitty ;  and  I  think  sewing  is 
better  than  prinking  or  reading  silly  novels,  so,  now." 
And  Polly  stitched  away  with  a  resolute  air,  for  she 
and  Fanny  had  had  a  little  tiff,  because  Polly  would  n't 
let  her  friend  do  up  her  hair  "  like  other  folks,"  and 
bore  her  ears. 

"  Don't  be  cross,  dear,  but  come  and  do  something 
nice,  it 's  so  dull  to-day,"  said  Fanny,  anxious  to  be 
friends  again,  for  it  was  doubly  dull  without  Polly. 

"  Can't ;  I  'm  busy." 

"  You  always  are  busy.  I  never  saw  such  a  girl. 
What  in  the  world  do  you  find  to  do  all  the  time  ? " 
asked  Fanny,  watching  with  interest  the  set  of  the 
little  red  merino  frock  Polly  was  putting  on  to  her 
doll. 

"  Lots  of  things'-;  but  I  like  to  be  lazy  sometimes 
as  much  as  you  do;  just  lie  on  the  sofa,  and  read 
fairy  stories,  or,  think  about  nothing.  Would  you 


Little  Things.  55 

have  a  white-muslin  apron  or  a  black  silk  ? "  added 
Polly,  surveying  her  work  with  satisfaction. 

"  Muslin,  with  pockets  and  tiny  blue  bows.  I  '11 
show  you  how."  And  forgetting  her  late  contempt 
for  dolls,  down  sat  Fanny,  soon  getting  as  much 
absorbed  as  either  of  the  others. 

The  dull  day  brightened  wonderfully  after  that,  and 
the  time  flew  pleasantly,  as  tongues  and  needles  went 
together.  Grandma  peeped  in,  and  smiled  at  the 
busy  group,  saying,  "  Sew  away,  my  dears ;  dollies 
are  safe  companions,  and  needlework  an  accomplish 
ment  that's  sadly  neglected  nowadays.  Small 
stitches,  Maud  ;  neat  buttonholes,  Fan  ;  cut  carefully, 
Polly,  and  don't  waste  your  cloth.  Take  pains  ;  and 
the  best  needlewoman  shall  have  a  pretty  bit  of  white 
satin  for  a  doll's  bonnet." 

Fanny  exerted  herself,  and  won  the  prize,  for  Polly 
helped  Maud,  and  neglected  her  own  work  ;  but  she 
did  n't  care  much,  for  Mr.  Shaw  said,  looking  at  the 
three  bright  faces  at  the  tea-table,  "  I  guess  Polly  has 
been  making  sunshine  for  you  to-day." 

uNo,  indeed,  sir,  I  haven't  done  anything,  only 
dress  Maud's  doll." 

And  Polly  did  n't  think  she  had  done  much  ;  but  it 
was  one  of  the  little  things  which  are  always  waiting 
to  be  done  in  this  world  of  ours,  where  rainy  days 
come  so  often,  where  spirits  get  out  of  tune,  and  duty 
won't  go  hand  in  hand  with  pleasure.  Little  things 
of  this  sort  are  especially  good  work  for  little  people  ; 
a  kind  little  thought,  an  unselfish  little  act,  a  cheery 
(ittle  word,  are  so  sweet  and  comfortable,  that  no  one 
can  fail  to  feel,  their  beauty  and  love  the  giver,  no 


56  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

matter  bow  small  they  are.  Mothers  do  a  deal  of 
this  sort  of  thing,  unseen,  unthanked,  but  felt  and  re 
membered  long  afterward,  and  never  lost,  for  this  is 
the  simple  magic  that  binds  hearts  together,  and 
keeps  home  happy.  Polly  had  learned  this  seciet. 
She  loved  to  do  the  u  little  things"  that  others  did 
not  see,  or  were  too  busy  to  stop  for ;  and  while  do 
ing  them,  without  a  thought  of  thanks,  she  made  sun 
shine  for  herself  as  well  as  others.  There  was  so 
much  love  in  her  own  home,  that  she  quickly  felt  the 
want  of  it  in  Fanny's,  and  puzzled  herself  to  find  out 
why  these  people  were  not  kind  and  patient  to  one 
another.  She  did  not  try  to  settle  the  question,  but 
did  her  best  to  love  and  serve  and  bear  with  each ; 
and  the  good  will,  the  gentle  heart,  the  helpful  ways 
and  simple  manners  of  our  Polly  made  her  dear  to 
every  one,  for  these  virtues,  even  in  a  little  child,  are 
lovely  and  attractive. 

Mr.  Shaw  was  very  kind  to  ii^r,  for  he  liked  her 
modest,  respectful  manners  ;  and  Polly  was  so  grate 
ful  for  his  many  favors,  that  she  soon  forgot  her  fear, 
and  showed  her  affection  in  all  sorts  of  confiding  little 
ways,  which  pleased  him  extremely.  She  used  to 
walk  across  the  park  with  him  when  he  went  to  his- 
office  in  the  morning,  talking  busily  all  the  way,  and 
saying  "  Good-by  "  with  a  nod  and  a  smile  when  they 
parted  at  the  great  gate.  At  first,  Mr.  Shaw  did  not 
care  much  about  it ;  but  soon  he  missed  her  if  she 
didn't  come,  and  found  that  something  fresh  and 
pleasant  seemed  to  brighten  all  his  day,  if  a  small, 
gray-coated  figure,  with  an  intelligent  face,  a  merry 
voice,  and  a  little  hand  slipped  confidingly  into  his, 


Little  Things.  57 

went  with  him  through  the  wintry  park.  Coining 
home  late,  he  liked  to  see  a  curly,  brown  head  watch 
ing  at  the  window ;  to  find  his  slippers  ready,  his 
paper  in  its  place,  and  a  pair  of  willing  feet,  eager  to 
wait  upon  him.  u  I  wish  my  Fanny  was  more  like 
her,"  he  often  said  to  himself,  as  he  watched  the  girls, 
while  they  thought  him  deep  in  politics  or  the  state 
of  the  money  market.  Poor  Mr.  Shaw  had  been  so 
busy  getting  rich,  that  he  had  not  found  time  to  teach 
his  children  to  love  him  ;  he  was  more  at  leisure  now, 
and  as  his  boy  and  girls  grew  up,  he  missed  some 
thing.  Polly  was  unconsciously  showing  him  what  it 
was,  and  making  child-love  so  sweet,  that  he  felt  he 
could  not  do  without  it  any  more,  yet  did  n't  quite 
know  how  to  win  the  confidence  of  the  children,  who 
had  always  found  him  busy,  indifferent,  and  absent- 
minded. 

As  the  girls  were  going  to  bed  one  night,  Polly 
kissed  grandma,  as  usual,  and  Fanny  laughed  at  her, 
saying,  "  What  a  baby  you  are !  We  are  too  old  for 
such  things  now." 

"  I  don't  think  people  ever  are  too  old  to  kiss  their 
fathers  and  mothers,"  was  the  quick  answer. 

"  Right,  my  little  Polly ;  "  and  Mr.  Shaw  stretched 
out  his  hand  to  her  with  such  a  kindly  look,  that 
Fanny  ptared  surprised,  and  then  said,  shyly,  "1 
thought  you  did  n't  care  about  it,  father." 

"  I  do,  my  dear."  And  Mr.  Shaw  put  out  the 
other  hand  to  Fanny,  who  gave  him  a  daughterly  kiss, 
quite  forgetting  everything  but  the  tender  feeling  that 
sprung  up  in  her  heart  at  the  renewal  of  the  childish 
custom  which  we  never  need  outgrow. 


58  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

Mrs.  Shaw  was  a  nervous,  fussy  invalid,  who 
wanted  something  every  five  minutes  ;  so  Polly  found 
plenty  of  small  things  to  do  for  her,  and  did  them  so 
cheerfully,  that  the  poor  lady  loved  to  have  the  quiet, 
helpful  child  near,  to  wait  upon  her,  read  to  her,  run 
errands,  or  hand  the  seven  different  shawls  which 
were  continually  being  put  on  or  off. 

Grandma,  too,  was  glad  to  find  willing  hands  and 
feet  to  serve  her  ;  and  Polly  passed  man}7  happy  hours 
in  the  quaint  rooms,  learning  all  sorts  of  pretty  arts, 
and  listening  to  pleasant  chat,  never  dreaming  how 
much  sunshine  she  brought  to  the  solitary  old  lad}T. 

Tom  was  Polly's  rock  ahead  for  a  long  time, 
because  he  was  always  breaking  out  in  a  new  place, 
and  one  never  knew  where  to  find  him.  He  tor 
mented  yet  amused  her ;  was  kind  one  clay,  and  a 
bear  the  next ;  at  times  she  fancied  he  was  never 
going  to  be  bad  again,  and  the  next  thing  she  knew 
he  was  deep  in  mischief,  and  hooted  at  the  idea  of 
repentance  and  reformation.  Polly  gave  him  up  as  a 
hard  case  ;  but  was  so  in  the  habit  of  helping  any  one 
who  seemed  in  trouble,  that  she  was  good  to  him  sim 
ply  because  she  could  n't  help  it. 

"  What's  the  matter?  Is  your  lesson  too  hard  for 
fou?"  she  asked  one  evening,  as  a  groan  made  her 
Jook  across  the  table  to  where  Tom  sat  scowling  over 
d  pile  of  dilapidated  books,  with  his  hands  in  his 
hair,  as  if  his  head  was  in  danger  of  flying  asunder 
Rrith  the  tremendous  effort  he  was  making. 

u  Hard  !  Guess  it  is.  What  in  thunder  do  I  care 
<tbout  the  old  Carthagenians  ?  Regulus  was  n't  bad  ; 
Dut  I  'm  sick  of  him ! "  And  Tom  dealt  "  Harkness's 


Little  Things.  59 

Latin  Reader"  a  thump,  which  expressed  his  feelings 
better  than  words. 

44 1  like  Latin,  and  used  to  get  on  well  when  I 
studied  it  with  Jimmy.  Perhaps  I  can  help  you  a 
little  bit,"  said  Polly,  as  Tom  wiped  his  hot  face  and 
refreshed  himself  with  a  peanut. 

44  You?  Pooh  !  girls'  Latin  don't  amount  to  much, 
any  way,"  was  the  grateful  reply. 

But  Polly  was  used  to  him  now,  and,  nothing 
daunted,  took  a  look  at  the  grimy  page  in  the  middle 
of  which  Tom  had  stuck.  She  read  it  so  well,  that 
the  young  gentleman  stopped  munching  to  regard  her 
with  respectful  astonishment,  and  when  she  stopped, 
he  said,  suspiciously,  "You  are  a  sly  one,  Polly,  to 
study  up  so  you  can  show  off  before  me.  But  it 
won't  do,  ma'am ;  turn  over  a  dozen  pages,  and  try 
again." 

Polly  obeyed,  and  did  even  better  than  before,  saying, 
as  she  looked  up,  with  a  laugh,  44  I  've  been  through 
the  whole  book ;  so  you  won't  catch  me  that  way, 
Tom." 

44 1  say,  how  came  you  to  know  such  a  lot?  "  asked 
Tom,  much  impressed. 

44 1  studied  with  Jimmy,  and  kept  up  with  him,  for 
father  let  us  be  together  in  all  our  lessons.  It  was 
so  nice,  and  we  learned  so  fast !  " 

k4  Tell  about  Jimmy.     He 's  your  brother,  is  n't  he  ?  " 

•4  Yes ;  but  he's  dead,  you  know.  I'll  tell  about 
him  some  other  time ;  you  ought  to  study  now,  and 
perhaps  I  can  help  you,"  said  Polly,  with  a  little 
quiver  of  the  lips. 

"Shouldn't   wonder    if   you    could."     And  Tom 


6o  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

spread  the  book  between  them  with  a  grave  and 
business-like  air,  for  he  felt  that  Polly  had  got  the 
better  of  him,  and  it  behooved  him  to  do  his  best  for 
the  honor  of  his  sex.  He  went  at  the  lesson  with  a 
will,  and  soon  floundered  out  of  his  difficulties,  for 
Polly  gave  him  a  lift  here  and  there,  and  they  went 
on  swimmingly,  till  they  came  to  some  rules  to  be 
learned.  Polly  had  forgotten  them,  so  they  both 
committed  them  to  memory  ;  —  Tom,  with  hands  in 
his  pockets^  rocked  to  and  fro,  muttering  rapidly,  while 
Polly  twisted  the  little  curl  on  her  forehead  and  stared 
at  the  wall,  gabblmg  with  all  her  might. 

4'  Done  !  "  cried  Tom,  presently. 

u  Done  ! "  echoed  Polly ;  and  then  they  heard  each 
other  recite  till  tx>th  were  perfect. 

"  That's  pretty  good  fun,"  said  Tom,  joyfully,  toss 
ing  poor  Harkness  away,  and  feeling  that  the  pleasant 
excitement  of  companionship  could  lend  a  charm  even 
to  Latin  Grammar. 

' "  Now,  ma'am,  w*  '11  take  a  turn  at  algiftfeera.     I 
like  that  as  much  as  I  bate  Latin." 

Polly  accepted  the  inritalion,  and  soon  owned  that 
Tom  could  beat  her  here.  This  fact  restored  his 
equanimity ;  but  he  did  n't  crow  over  her,  far  from  it ; 
for  he  helped  her  with  a  paternal  patience  that  made 
her  eyes  twinkle  with  suppressed  fun,  as  he  soberly 
explained  and  illustrated,  unconsciously  imitating 
Dominie  Deane,  till  Polly  found  it  difficult  to  keep 
from  laughing  in  his  face. 

"  You  may  have  another  go  at  it  any  time  you  like," 
generously  remarked  Tom,  as  he  shied  the  Algebra 
after  the  Latin  Reader 


Little  Things.  61 

'  "I'll  come  every  evening,  then.  I'd  like  to,  for  I 
have  n't  studied  a  bit  since  I  came.  You  shall  try  and 
make  me  like  algebra,  and  I'll  try  and  make  you 
like  Latin  ;  will  you? " 

"  Oh,  I  'd  like  it  well  enough,  if  there  was  any  one 
to  explain  it  to  me.  Old  Deane  puts  us  through 
double-quick,  and  don't  give  a  fellow  time  to  ask 
questions  when  we  read." 

44  Ask  your  father ;  he  knows." 

"  Don't  believe  he  does ;  should  n't  dare  to  bother 
him,  if  he  did." 

u Why  not?" 

"  lie  'd  pull  my  ears,  and  call  me  a  '  stupid,'  or  tell 
me  not  to  worry  him." 

"  I  don't  think  he  would.  He 's  very  kind  to  me, 
and  I  ask  lots  of  questions." 

"  He  likes  you  better  than  he  does  me." 

44  Now,  Tom  !  —  it 's  wrong  of  you  to  say  so.  Of 
course  he  loves  you  ever  so  much  more  than  he  does 
me,"  cried  Polly,  reprovingly. 

44  Why  don't  he  show  it,  then?"  muttered  Tom, 
with  a  half-wistful,  half-defiant  glance  toward  the 
library  door,  which  stood  ajar. 

44  You  act  so,  how  can  he  ? "  asked  Polly,  after  a 
pause,  in  which  she  put  Tom's  question  to  herself,  and 
could  find  no  better  reply  than  the  one  she  gave  him. 

44  Why  don't  he  give  me  my  velocipede?  He  said, 
if  I  did  well  at  school  for  a  month,  I  should  have  it ; 
and  I  've  been  pegging  away  like  fury  for  most  six 
weeks,  and  he  don't  do  a  thing  about  it.  The  girli 
get  their  duds,  because  they  tease.  I  won't  do  that, 
any  way  ;  but  you  don't  catch  me  studying  myself  to 
death,  and  DO  pay  for  it " 


62  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

"  It  is  too  bad ;  but  you  ought  to  do  it  because  it 's 
right,  and  never  mind  being  paid,"  began  Polly,  try 
ing  to  be  moral,  but  secretly  sympathizing  heartily 
with  poor  Tom. 

"  Don't  you  preach,  Polly.  If  the  governor  took 
any  notice  of  me,  and  cared  how  I  got  on,  I  would  n't 
mind  the  presents  so  much  ;  but  he  don't  care  a  hang, 
and  never  even  asked  if  I  did  well  last  declamation 
day,  when  I  'd  gone  and  learned  4  The  Battle  of  Lake 
Regillus,'  because  he  said  he  liked  it." 

"Oh,  Tom!  Did  you  say  that?  It's  splendid! 
Jim  and  I  used  to  say  Horatius  together,  and  it  was 
such  fun.  Do  speak  your  piece  to  me,  I  do  so  like 
4  Macaulay's  Lays.'" 

"It's  dreadful  long,"  began  Tom;  but  his  face 
brightened,  for  Polly's  interest  soothed  his  injured 
feelings,  and  he  was  glad  to  prove  his  elocutionary 
powers.  lie  began  without  much  spirit ;  but  soon 
the  martial  ring  of  the  lines  fired  him,  and  before  he 
knew  it,  he  was  on  his  legs  thundering  away  in  grand 
style,  while  Polly  listened  with  kindling  face  and  ab 
sorbed  attention.  Tom  did  declaim  well,  for  he  quite 
forgot  himself,  and  delivered  the  stirring  ballad  with 
an  energy  that  made  Polly  flush  and  tingle  with  ad 
miration  and  delight,  and  quite  electrified  a  second 
listener,  who  had  heard  all  that  went  on,  and  watched 
the  little  scene  from  behind  his  newspaper. 

As  Tom  paused,  breathless,  and  Polly  clapped  her 
hands  enthusiastically,  the  sound  was  loudly  echoed 
from  behind  him.  Both  whirled  round,  and  there  was 
Mr.  Shaw,  standing  in  the  doorwa}7,  applauding  with 
all  his  might. 

Tom  looked  much  abashed,  and  said  not  a  word ; 


Little  Things.  63 

but  Polly  ran  to  Mr.  Shaw,  and  danced  before  him, 
saying,  eagerly,  "  Was  n't  it  splendid  ?  Did  n't  he  do 
it  well?  Mayn't  he  have  his  velocipede  now?" 

"  Capital,  Tom ;  you  '11  be  an  orator  yet.  Lear» 
another  piece  like  that,  and  I  '11  come  and  hear  you 
speak  it.  Are  you  ready  for  your  velocipede 
hey?" 

Polly  was  right ;  and  Tom  owned  that  "  the  gov 
ernor "  was  kind,  did  like  him,  and  had  n't  entirely 
forgotten  his  promise.  The  boy  turned  red  with 
pleasure,  and  picked  at  the  buttons  on  his  jacket, 
while  listening  to  this  unexpected  praise ;  but  when 
he  spoke,  he  looked  straight  up  in  his  father's  face, 
while  his  own  shone  with  pleasure,  as  he  answered, 
all  in  one  breath,  "Thankee,  sir.  I'll  do  it,  sir. 
Guess  I  am,  sir  !  " 

u  Very  good ;  then  look  out  for  your  new  "horse 
to-morrow,  sir."  And  Mr.  Shaw  stroked  the  fuzzy 
red  head  with  a  kind  hand,  feeling  a  fatherly  pleasure 
in  the  conviction  that  there  was  something  in  his  boy 
after  all. 

Tom  got  his  velocipede  next  day,  named  it  Black 
Auster,  in  memory  of  the  horse  in  "  The  Battle  of 
Lake  Regillus,"  and  came  to  grief  as  soon  as  he  be 
gan  to  ride  his  new  steed. 

"  Come  out  and  see  me  go  it,"  whispered  Tom  to 
Polly,  after  three  days'  practice  in  the  street,  for  he 
had  already  learned  to  ride  in  the  rink. 

Polly  and  Maud  willingly  went,  and  watched  his 
struggles  with  deep  interest,  till  he  got  an  upset, 
which  nearly  put  an  end  to  his  velocipeding  forever. 

"  Hi,  there  1     Auster's  coming !  "  shouted  Tom,  as 


64  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

he  came  rattling  down  the  long,  steep  street  outside 
the  park. 

They  stepped  aside,  and  he  whizzed  by,  arms  and 
legs  going  like  mad,  with  the  general  appearance  of  a 
runaway  engine.  It  would  have  been  a  triumphant 
descent,  if  a  big  dog  had  not  bounced  suddenly 
through  one  of  the  openings,  and  sent  the  whole  con 
cern  helter-skelter  into  the  gutter.  Polly  laughed  as 
she  ran  to  view  the  ruin,  for  Tom  lay  flat  on  his  back 
with  the  velocipede  atop  of  him,  while  the  big  dog 
barked  wildly,  and  his  master  scolded  him  for  his 
awkwardness.  But  when  she  saw  Tom's  face,  Polly 
was  frightened,  for  the  color  had  all  gone  out  of  it, 
his  63Tes  looked  strange  and  dizz}',  and  drops  of  blood 
began  to  trickle  from  a  great  cut  on  his  forehead. 
The  man  saw  it,  too,  and  had  him  up  in  a  minute  ; 
but  lie  could  n't  stand,  and  stared  about  him  in  a 
dazed  sort  of  wa}'1,  as  he  sat  on  the  curbstone,  while 
Polly  held  her  handkerchief  to  his  forehead,  and  pa 
thetically  begged  to  know  if  he  was  killed. 

"  Don't  scare  mother,  —  I'm  all  right.  Got  upset, 
did  n't  I  ? "  he  asked,  presently,  eyeing  the  prostrate 
velocipede  with  more  anxiety  about  its  damages  than 
his  own. 

"I  knew  you'd  hurt  yourself  with  that  horrid 
thing.  Just  let  it  be,  and  come  home,  for  your  head 
bleeds  dreadfully,  and  everybody  is  looking  at  us," 
whispered  Polly,  trying  to  tie  the  little  handkerchief 
over  the  ugly  cut. 

"  Come  on,  then.  Jove  !  how  queer  my  head  feels ! 
Give  us  a  boost,  please.  Stop  howling,  Maud,  and 
come  home.  You  bring  the  machine,  and  I'll  pay 


Little  Things.  65 

vou,  Pat."  As  he  spoke,  Torn  slowly  picked  himself 
up,  and  steadying  himself  by  Polly's  shoulder,  issued 
bis  commands,  and  the  procession  fell  into  line. 
First,  the  big  dog,  barking  at  intervals ;  then  the 
pxxxl-natured  Irishman,  trundling  "  that  divil  of  a 
whirligig,"  as  he  disrespectfully  called  the  idolized 
velocipede  ;  then  the  wounded  hero,  supported  by  the 
faithful  Polly  ;  and  Maud  brought  up  the  rear  in  tears, 
bearing  Tom's  cap. 

Unfortunately,  Mrs.  Shaw  was  out  driving  with 
grandma,  and  Fanny  was  making  calls  ;  so  that  there 
was  no  one  but  Polly  to  stand  by  Tom,  for  the  par 
lor-maid  turned  faint  at  the  sight  of  blood,  and  the 
chamber-maid  lost  her  wits  in  the  flurry.  It  was  a  bad 
cut,  and  must  be  sewed  up  at  once,  the  doctor  said,  as 
soon  as  he  came.  "  Somebody  must  hold  his  head," 
he  added,  as  he  threaded  his  queer  little  needle. 

"  I  '11  keep  still,  but  if  anybody  must  hold  me,  let 
Polly.  You  ain't  afraid,  are  you  ?  "  asked  Tom,  with 
an  imploring  look,  for  he  did  n't  like  the  idea  of  being 
sewed  a  bit. 

Polly  was  just  going  to  shrink  away,  saying,  u  Oh, 
I  can't ! "  when  she  remembered  that  Tom  once  called 
her  a  coward.  Here  was  a  chance  to  prove  that  she 
was  n't ;  besides,  poor  Tom  had  no  one  else  to  help 
him ;  so  she  came  up  to  the  sofa  where  he  lay,  and 
nodded  reassuringly,  as  she  put  a  soft  little  hand  on 
either  side  of  the  damaged  head. 

"  You  are  a  trump,  Polly,"  whispered  Tom.    Then 

he  set  his  teeth,  clenched  his  hands,  lay  quite  still, 

and  bore  it  like  a  man.     It  was  all  over  in  a  minute 

or  two,  and  when  he  had  had  a  glass  of  wine,  and  was 

6 


66  An  Old-Fashioned  GirL 

nicely  settled  on  his  bed,  he  felt  pretty  comfortable, 
in  spite  of  the  pain  in  his  head ;  and  being  ordered 
to  keep  quiet,  he  said,  "  Thank  you  ever  so  much, 
Polly,"  and  watched  her  with  a  grateful  face  as  she 
crept  away. 

He  had  to  keep  the  house  for  a  week,  and  laid 
about  looking  very  interesting  with  a  great  black 
patch  on  his  forehead.  Every  one  petted  him ;  for 
the  doctor  said,  that  if  the  blow  had  been  an  inch 
nearer  the  temple,  it  would  have  been  fatal,  and  the 
thought  of  losing  him  so  suddenly  made  bluff  old  Tom 
very  precious  all  at  once.  His  father  asked  him  how 
he  was  a  dozen  times  a  day ;  his  mother  talked  con 
tinually  of  "  that  dear  boy's  narrow  escape  "  ;  and 
grandma  cockered  him  up  with  every  delicacy  she 
could  invent ;  and  the  girls  waited  on  him  like  devoted 
slaves.  This  new  treatment  had  an  excellent  effect  ;* 
for  when  neglected  Tom  got  over  his  first  amazement 
at  this  change  of  base,  he  blossomed  out  delightfully, 
as  sick  people  do  sometimes,  and  surprised  his  family 
by  being  unexpectedly  patient,  grateful,  and  amiable. 
Nobody  ever  knew  how  much  good  it  did  him ;  for 
boys  seldom  have  confidences  of  this  sort  except  with 
their  mothers,  and  Mrs.  Shaw  had  never  found  the 
key  to  her  son's  heart.  But  a  little  seed  was  sowed 
then  that  took  root,  and  though  it  grew  very  slowty, 
it  came  to  something  in  the  end.  Perhaps  Polly 
helped  it  a  little.  Evening  was  his  hardest  time,  for 
want  of  exercise  made  him  as  restless  and  nervous  aa 
it  was  possible  for  a  hearty  lad  to  be  on  such  a  short 
notice.  He  could  n't  sleep,  so  the  girls  amused  him  ; 
—  Fanny  played  and  read  aloud ;  Polly  sung,  and 


Little  Tilings.  67 

told  stories  „  and  did  the  latter  so  well,  that  it  got  to 
be  a  regular  thing  for  her  to  begin  as  soon  as  twilight 
came,  and  Tom  was  settled  in  his  favorite  place  on 
grandma's  sofa. 

"  Fire  away,  Polly,"  said  the  young  sultan,  one 
evening,  as  his  little  Scheherazade  sat  down  in  her  low 
chair,  after  stirring  up  the  fire  till  the  room  was  bright 
and  cosy. 

"  I  don't  feel  like  stories  to-night,  Tom.  I've  told 
ail  I  know,  and  can't  make  up  any  more,"  answered 
Polly,  leaning  her  head  on  her  hand  with  a  sorrowful 
look  that  Tom  had  never  seen  before.  He  watched 
her  a  minute,  and  then  asked,  curiously,  "  What  were 
you  thinking  about,  just  now,  when  you  sat  staring 
at  the  fire,  and  getting  soberer  and  soberer  every 
minute  ?  " 

"  I  was  thinking  about  Jimmy." 

"  Would  you  mind  telling  about  him?  You  know, 
you  said  you  would  some  time ;  but  don't,  if  you  'd 
rather  not,"  said  Tom,  lowering  his  rough  voice 
respectfully. 

u  I  like  to  talk  about  him  ;  but  there  is  n't  much  to 
tell,"  began  Polly,  grateful  for  his  interest.  "  Sitting 
here  with  you  reminded  me  of  the  way  I  used  to  sit 
with  him  when  he  was  sick.  We  used  to  have  such 
happy  timefe,  and  it 's  so  pleasant  to  think  about  them 
now." 

"  He  was  awfully  good,  was  n't  he  ?  " 

"  No,  he  was  n't ;  but  he  tried  to  be,  and  mother 
says  that  is  half  the  battle.  We  used  to  get  tired  of 
trying ;  but  we  kept  making  resolutions,  and  working 
hard  to  keep  'em.  I  don't  think  I  got  on  much  ;  but 
Jimmy  did,  and  every  one  loved  him." 


68  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

"  Didn't  you  ever  squabble,  as  we  do?" 

"Yes,  indeed,  sometimes;  but  we  couldn't  stay 
mad,  and  always  made  it  up  again  as  soon  as  we 
could.  Jimmy  used  to  come  round  first,  and  say, 
'  All  serene,  Polly,'  so  kind  and  jolly,  that  I  could  n't 
help  laughing  and  being  friends  right  away." 

"  Did  he  know  a  lot  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  think  he  did,  for  he  liked  to  study,  and 
wanted  to  get  on,  so  he  could  help  father.  People 
used  to  call  him  a  fine  boy,  and  I  felt  so  proud  to 
hear  it ;  but  they  did  n't  know  half  how  wise  he  was, 
because  he  didn't  show  off  a  bit.  1  suppose  sisters 
always  are  grand  of  their  brothers ;  but  I  don't 
believe  many  girls  had  as  much  right  to  be  as  I  had." 

"  Most  girls  don't  care  two  pins  about  their  broth 
ers  ;  so  that  shows  you  don't  know  much  about  it." 

"  Well,  they  ought  to,  if  they  don't ;  and  they 
would  if  the  boys  were  as  kind  to  them  as  Jimmy  was 
to  me." 

"  Why,  what  did  he  do  ?" 

"  Loved  me  dearly,  and  was  n't  ashamed  to  show  it," 
cried  Polly,  with  a  sob  in  her  voice,  that  made  her 
answer  very  eloquent. 

4t  What  made  him  die,  Polly?  "  asked  Tom,  soberly, 
after  a  little  pause. 

"  He  got  hurt  coasting,  last  winter ;  but  he  never 
told  which  boy  did  it,  and  he  only  lived  a  week.  I 
helped  take  care  of  him ;  and  he  was  so  patient,  I 
used  to  wonder  at  him,  for  he  was  in  dreadful  pain  all 
the  time.  He  gave  me  his  books,  and  his  dog,  and 
his  speckled  hens,  and  his  big  knife,  and  said,  4  Good- 
by,  Polly/ —  and  kissed  me  the  last  thing  —  and  then 
—  O  Jimmy  I  Jimmy  !  If  he  only  could  come  back  !" 


Little  Things*  69 

Poor  Polly's  eyes  had  been  getting  fuller  and  fuller, 
her  lips  trembling  more  and  more,  as  she  went  on ; 
and  when  she  came  to  that  "  good-by,"  she  could  n't 
get  any  further,  but  covered  up  her  face,  and  cried  as 
if  her  heart  would  break.  Tom  was  full  of  sympath}', 
but  did  n't  know  how  to  show  it ;  so  he  sat  shaking 
up  the  camphor  bottle,  and  trying  to  think  of  some 
thing  proper  and  comfortable  to  say,  when  Fanny 
came  to  the  rescue,  and  cuddled  Polly  in  her  arms, 
with  soothing  little  pats  and  whispers  and  kisses,  till 
the  tears  stopped,  and  Polly  said,  she  "  did  n't  mean 
to,  and  would  n't  any  more.  I  've  been  thinking 
about  my  dear  boy  all  the  evening,  for  Tom  reminds 
me  of  him,"  she  added,  with  a  sigh. 

44  Me?  How  can  I,  when  I  ain't  a  bit  like  him?  " 
cried  Tom,  amazed. 

"But  you  are  in  some  ways." 

"  Wish  I  was  ;  but  I  can't  be,  for  he  was  good,  you 
know." 

44  So  are  you,  when  you  choose.  Has  n't  he  been 
good  and  patient,  and  don't  we  all  like  to  pet  him 
when  he 's  clever,  Fan  ?  "  said  Polly,  whose  heart  was 
still  aching  for  her  brother,  and  ready  for  his  sake  to 
find  virtues  even  in  tormenting  Tom. 

44  Yes  ;  I  don't  know  the  boy  lately ;  but  he  '11  be  as 
bad  as  ever  when  he 'swell,"  returned  Fanny,  who 
had  n't  much  faith  in  sick-bed  repentances. 

44  Much  you  know  about  it,"  growled  Tom,  lying 
down  again,  for  he  had  sat  bolt  upright  when  Polly 
made  the  astounding  declaration  that  he  was  like  the 
well-beloved  Jimmy.  That  simple  little  history  had 
made  a  deep  impression  on  Tom,  and  the  tearful  end- 


70  An  Old- Fashioned  GirL 

ing  touched  the  tender  spot  that  most  boys  hide  so 
carefully.  It  is  very  pleasant  to  be  loved  and  ad 
mired,  very  sweet  to  think  we  shall  be  missed  and 
mourned  when  we  die ;  and  Tom  was  seized  with  a 
sudden  desire  to  imitate  this  boy,  who  hadn't  done 
anything  wonderful,  yet  was  so  dear  to  his  sister,  that 
she  cried  for  him  a  whole  year  after  he  was  dead  ;  so 
studious  and  clever,  that  people  called  him  "  a  fine 
fellow  "  ;  and  so  anxious  to  be  good,  that  he  kept  on 
trying,  till  he  was  better  even  than  Polly,  whom  Tom 
privately  considered  a  model  of  virtue,  as  girls  go. 

"  I  just  wish  I  had  a  sister  like  you,"  he  broke  out, 
all  of  a  sudden. 

"  And  I  just  wish  I  had  a  brother  like  Jim,"  cried 
Fanny,  for  she  felt  the  reproach  in  Tom's  words,  and 
knew  she  deserved  it. 

44  I  should  n't  think  you  'd  envy  anybody,  for  you've 
got  one  another,"  said  Polly,  with  such  a  wistful  look, 
that  it  suddenly  set  Tom  and  Fanny  to  wondering 
why  they  did  n't  have  better  times  together,  and  enjoy 
themselves,  as  Polly  and  Jim  did. 

44  Fan  don't  care  for  anybody  but  herself,"  said 
Tom. 

4k  Tom  is  such  a  bear,"  retorted  Fanny. 

44 1  wouldn't  say  such  things,  for  if  anything 
should  happen  to  either  of  you,  the  other  one  would 
feel  so  sorry.  Every  cross  word  I  ever  said  to 
Jimmy  comes  back  now,  and  makes  me  wish  I 
hadn't." 

Two  great  tears  rolled  down  Polly's  cheeks,  and 
were  quietly  wiped  away ;  but  I  think  they  watered 
that  sweet  sentiment,  called  fraternal  love,  which  till 


Little  Things.  71 

now  had  been  neglected  in  the  hearts  of  this  brother 
and  sister.  They  did  n't  say  anything  then,  or  make 
an}^  plans,  or  confess  any  faults  ;  but  when  they  parted 
for  the  night,  Fanny  gave  the  wounded  head  a  gentle 
pat  (Tom  never  would  have  forgiven  her  if  she  had 
kissed  him),  and  said,  in  a  whisper,  "I  hope  you'll 
have  a  good  sleep,  Tommy,  dear." 

And  Tom  nodded  back  at  her,  with  a  hearty  "  Same 
to  you,  Fan." 

That  was  all ;  but  it  meant  a  good  deal,  for  the 
voices  were  kind,  and  the  eyes  met  full  of  that  affec 
tion  which  makes  words  of  little  consequence.  Polly 
saw  it ;  and  though  she  did  n't  know  that  she  had 
made  the  sunshine,  it  shone  back  upon  her  so  pleas 
antly,  that  she  fell  happily  asleep,  though  her  Jimmy 
was  n't  there  to  say  "good-night." 


CHAPTER    V. 

SCRAPES. 

A  FTEB  being  unusually  good,  children  are  apt  to 
•£*•  turn  short  round  and  refresh  themselves  by  act 
ing  like  Sancho.  For  a  week  after  Tom's  mishap, 
the  young  folks  were  quite  angelic,  so  much  so  that 
grandma  said  she  was  afraid  "  something  was  going 
to  happen  to  them."  The  dear  old  lady  need  n't  have 
felt  anxious,  for  such  excessive  virtue  doesn't  last 
long  enough  to  lead  to  translation,  except  with  little 
prigs  in  the  goody  story-books ;  and  no  sooner  was 
Tom  on  his  legs  again,  when  the  whole  party  went 
astray,  and  much  tribulation  was  the  consequence. 

It  all  began  with  "  Polly's  stupidity,"  as  Fan  said 
afterward.  Just  as  Polly  ran  down  to  meet  Mr. 
Shaw  one  evening,  and  was  helping  him  off  with  his 
coat,  the  bell  rang,  and  a  fine  bouquet  of  hothouse 
flowers  was  left  in  Polly's  hands,  for  she  never  could 
learn  city  ways,  and  opened  the  door  herself. 

"  Hey  !  what's  this?  My  little  Polly  is  beginning 
early,  after  all,"  said  Mr.  Shaw,  laughing,  as  he 
watched  the  girl's  face  dimple  and  flush,  as  she. smelt 
the  lovely  nosegay,  and  glanced  at  a  note  half  hidden 
in  the  heliotrope. 


Scrapes.  73 

Now,  if  Polly  had  n't  been  "  stupid,"  as  Fan  said, 
she  would  have  had  her  wits  about  her,  and  let  it 
pass ;  but,  you  see,  Polly  was  an  honest  little  soul, 
and  it  never  occurred  to  her  that  there  was  any  need  of 
concealment,  so  she  answered  in  her  straightforward 
way,  "  Oh,  they  ain't  for  me,  sir ;  they  are  for  Fan ; 
fiom  Mr.  Frank,  I  guess.  She  '11  be  so  pleased." 

44  That  puppy  sends  her  things  of  this  sort,  doea 
he  ?  "  And  Mr.  Shaw  looked  far  from  pleased  as  he 
pulled  out  the  note,  and  coolly  opened  it. 

Polly  had  her  doubts  about  Fan's  approval  of  that 
"  sort  of  thing,"  but  dared  not  say  a  word,  and  stood 
thinking  how  she  used  to  show  her  father  the  funny 
valentines  the  bo}7s  sent  her,  and  how  they  laughed  over 
them  together.  But  Mr.  Shaw  did  not  laugh  when 
he  had  read  the  sentimental  verses  accompanying  the 
bouquet,  and  his  face  quite  scared  Polly,  as  he  asked, 
angrily,  "  How  long  has  this  nonsense  been  going 
on  ?  " 

"Indeed,  sir,  I  don't  know.  Fan  doesn't  mean 
any  harm.  I  wish  I  had  n't  said  anything  !  "  stam 
mered  Polly,  remembering  the  promise  given  to 
Fanny  the  day  of  the  concert.  She  had  forgotten  all 
about  it,  and  had  become  accustomed  to  see  the  "  big 
boys,"  as  she  called  Mr.  Frank  and  his  friends,  with 
the  girls  on  all  occasions.  Now,  it  suddenly  occurred 
to  her  that  Mr.  Shaw  didn't  like  such  amusements, 
and  had  forbidden  Fan  to  indulge  in  them.  "Oh, 
dear !  how  mad  she  will  be.  Well,  I  can't  help  it. 
Girls  shouldn't  have  secrets  from  their  fathers,  then 
there  would  n't  be  any  fuss,"  thought  Polty,  as  she 
watched  Mr.  Shuw  twist  up  the  pink  note  and  poke  it 


74  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

back  among  the  flowers  which  he  took  from  her, 
saying,  shortly,  "  Send  Fanny  to  me  in  the  library." 

"  Now  you  Ve  done  it,  you  stupid  thing  !  "  cried 
Fanny,  both  angry  and  dismayed,  when  Polly  deliv 
ered  the  message. 

u  Why,  what  else  could  I  do?"  asked  Polly,  much 
disturbed. 

"  Let  him  think  the  bouquet  was  for  you ;  then 
there  'd  have  been  no  trouble." 

"  But  that  would  have  been  doing  a  lie,  which  is 
most  as  bad  as  telling  one." 

44  Don't  be  a  goose.  You  Ve  got  me  into  a  scrape, 
and  you  ought  to  help  mo  out." 

"  I  will  if  I  can ;  but  I  won't  tell  lies  for  any 
body  !  "  cried  Polly ,  getting  excited. 

"  Nobody  wants  you  to.  Just  hold  your  tongue, 
and  let  me  manage." 

"  Then  I  *d  better  not  go  down,"  began  Polly,  when 
a  stern  voice  from  below  called,  like  Bluebeard,  "  Are 
you  coming  down  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  a  meek  voice ;  and  Fanny 
clutched  Polly,  whispering,  "  You  must  come ;  I  'm 
frightened  out  of  my  wits  when  he  speaks  like  that. 
Stand  by  me,  Polly  ;  there 's  a  dear." 

"  I  will,"  whispered  "  sister  Ann  "  ;  and  down  they 
went  with  fluttering  hearts. 

Mr.  Shaw  stood  on  the  rug,  looking  rather  grim ; 
the  bouquet  lay  on  the  table,  and  beside  it  a  note, 
directed  to  "  Frank  Moore,  Esq.,"  in  a  very  decided 
hand,  with  a  fierce-looking  flourish  after  the  u  Esq." 
Pointing  to  this  impressive  epistle,  Mr.  bhaw  said, 
knitting  his  black  eyebrows  as  he  looked  at  Fanny, 


Scrapes.  75 

"  T  'm  going  to  put  a  stop  to  this  nonsense  at  once  ; 
and  if  I  see  any  more  of  it,  I  '11  send  you  to  school  in 
a  Canadian  convent." 

This  awful  threat  quite  took  Polly's  breath  away ; 
but  Fanny  had  heard  it  before,  and  having  a  temper 
of  her  own,  said,  pertly,  "I'm  sure  I  haven't  done 
anything  so  very  dreadful.  I  can't  help  it  if  the  boys 
send  me  \  hilopena  presents,  as  they  do  to  the  other 
girls." 

"  There  was  nothing  about  philopenas  in  the  note. 
But  that's  not  the  question.  I  forbid  you  to  have 
anything  to  do  with  this  Moore.  He 's  not  a  boy,  but 
a  fast  fellow,  and  I  won't  have  him  about.  You 
knew  this,  and  yet  disobeyed  me." 

"  I  hardly  ever  see  him,"  began  Fanny. 

"  Is  that  true  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Shaw,  turning  suddenly 
to  Polly. 

"  Oh,  please,  sir,  don't  ask  me.  I  promised  I 
wouldn't  —  that  is  —  Fanny,  will  tell  you,"  cried 
Polly,  quite  red  with  distress  at  the  predicament  she 
was  in. 

*4  No  matter  about  your  promise ;  tell  me  all  you 
know  of  this  absurd  affair.  It  will  do  Fanny  more 
good  than  harm."  And  Mr.  Shaw  sat  down  looking 
more  amiable,  for  Polly's  dismay  touched  him. 

"  May  I  ?  "  she  whispered  to  Fanny. 

"  I  don't  care,"  answered  Fan,  looking  both  angry 
and  ashamed,  as  she  stood  sullenly  tying  knots  in  her 
handkerchief. 

So  Polly  told,  with  much  reluctance  and  much 
questioning,  all  she  knew  of  the  walks,  the  lunches, 
the  meetings,  and  the  notes.  It  wasn't  much,  and 
evidently  less  serious  than  Mr.  Shaw  expected ;  for, 


76  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

as  he  listened,  his  eyebrows  smoothed  themselves  out, 
and  more  than  once  his  lips  twitched  as  if  he  wanted 
to  laugh,  for,  after  all,  it  was  rather  comical  to  see 
how  the  young  people  aped  their  elders,  playing  the 
new-fashioned  game,  quite  unconscious  of  its  real 
beauty,  power,  and  sacredness. 

"  Oh,  please,  sir,  don't  blame  Fan  much,  for  she 
truly  is  n't  half  as  silly  as  Trix  and  the  other  girls. 
She  wouldn't  go  sleigh-riding,  though  Mr.  Frank 
teased,  and  she  wanted  to  ever  so  much.  She 's  sor 
ry,  I  know,  and  won't  forget  what  you  say  any  more, 
if  you  '11  forgive  her  this  once,"  cried  Polly,  very  ear 
nestly,  when  the  foolish  little  story  was  told. 

"  I  don't  see  how  I  can  help  it,  when  you  plead  so 
well  for  her.     Come   here,  Fan,  nnd  mind  this  one 
thing ;  drop   all  this  nonsense,  and  attend  to  your 
books,  or  off  you  go  ;  and  Canada  is  no  joke  in  win 
ter  time,  let  me  tell  you." 

As  he  spoke,  Mr.  Shaw  stroked  his  sulky  daughter's 
cheek,  hoping  to  see  some  sign  of  regret ;  but  Fanny 
felt  injured,  and  would  n't  show  that  she  was  sorry,  so 
she  only  said,  pettishly,  "  I  suppose  I  can  have  my 
flowers,  now  the  fuss  is  over." 

"They  are  going  straight  back  where  they  came 
from,  with  a  line  from  me,  which  will  keep  that  puppy 
from  ever  sending  you  any  more."  Ringing  the  bell, 
Mr.  Shaw  despatched  the  unfortunate  posy,  and  then 
turned  to  Polly,  saying,  kindly  but  gravely,  "  Set 
this  silly  child  of  mine  a  good  example,  and  do  your 
best  for  her,  won't  you  ?  " 

"  Me?  What  can  I  do,  sir?  "  asked  Polly,  looking 
ready,  but  quite  ignorant  how  to  begin. 

'•  Make  her  as  like  yourself  as  possible,  my  dear ; 


Scrapes.  77 

nothing  would  please  me  better.  Now  go,  and  let  us 
hear  no  more  of  this  folly." 

They  went  without  a  word,  and  Mr.  Shaw  heard  no 
more  of  the  affair ;  but  poor  Polly  did,  for  Fan 
scolded  her,  till  Polly  thought  seriously  of  packing 
up  and  going  home  next  day.  I  really  have  n't  the 
heart  to  relate  the  dreadful  lectures  she  got,  the  snubs 
she  suffered,  or  the  cold  shoulders  turned  upon  her 
for  several-  days  after  this.  Polly's  heart  was  full, 
but  she  told  no  one,  and  bore  her  trouble  silently, 
feeling  her  friend's  ingratitude  and  injustice  deeply. 

Tom  found  out  what  the  matter  was,  and  sided  with 
Polly,  which  proceeding  led  to  scrape  number  two. 

"Where's  Fan?"  asked  the  young  gentleman, 
strolling  into  his  sister's  room,  where  Polly  lay  on  the 
sofa,  trying  to  forget  her  troubles  in  an  interesting 
book. 

"  Down  stairs,  seeing  company." 

"  Why  did  n't  you  go,  too  ?  " 

"  I  don't  like  Trix,  and  I  don't  know  her  fine  New 
York  friends." 

u  Don't  want  to,  neither,  why  don't  you  say?" 

"  Not  polite." 

"  Who  cares  ?  I  say,  Polly,  come  and  have  some 
flm." 

"  I  'd  rather  read." 

"  That  is  n't  polite." 

Polly  laughed,  and  turned  a  page.  Tom  whistled  a 
minute,  then  sighed  deeply,  and  put  his  hand  to  his 
forehead,  which  the  black  plaster  still  adorned. 

"  Does  your  head  ache?"  asked  Polly. 

"  Awfully." 


78  An  Old-Faskioned  Girl. 

"  Better  lie  down,  then." 

"  Can't ;  I  'm  fidgety,  and  want  to  be  4  amoosed/ 
as  Pug  says." 

"'  Just  wait  till  I  finish  my  chapter,  and  then  I  '11 
come,"  said  pitiful  Polly. 

"  All  right,"  returned  the  perjured  boy,  who  had 
discovered  that  a  broken  head  was  sometimes  more 
useful  than  a  whole  one,  and  exulting  in  his  base 
stratagem,  he  roved  about  the  room,  till  Fan's  bureau 
arrested  him.  It  was  covered  with  all  sorts  of  finery, 
for  she  had  dressed  in  a  hurry,  and  left  everything 
topsy-turvy.  A  well-conducted  boy  would  have  let 
things  alone,  or  a  moral  brother  would  have  put 
things  to  rights ;  being  neither,  Tom  rummaged  to 
his  heart's  content,  till  Fan's  drawers  looked  as  if 
some  one  had  been  making  hay  in  them.  He  tried 
the  effect  of  ear-rings,  ribbons,  and  collars ;  wound 
up  the  watch,  though  it  was  n't  time ;  burnt  his  in 
quisitive  nose  with  smelling-salts  ;  deluged  his  grimy 
handkerchief  with  Fan's  best  cologne ;  anointed  his 
cur4y  crop  with  her  hair-oil ;  powdered  his  face  with 
her  violet-powder ;  and  finished  off  by  pinning  on  a 
bunch  of  false  ringlets,  which  Fanny  tried  to  keep  a 
profound  secret.  The  ravages  committed  by  this  bad 
boy  are  beyond  the  power  of  language  to  describe,  as 
he  revelled  in  the  interesting  drawers,  boxes,  and 
cases,  which  held  his  sister's  treasures. 

When  the  curls  had  been  put  on,  with  much  prick 
ing  of  fingers,  and  a  blue  ribbon  added,  a  la  Fan,  he 
surveyed  himself  with  satisfaction,  and  considered  the 
effect  so  fine,  that  he  was  inspired  to  try  a  still  greater 
metamorphosis.  The  dress  Fan  had  taken  off  lay  OD 


Scrapes.  79 

a  chair,  and  into  it  got  Tom,  chuckling  with  sup 
pressed  laughter,  for  Polly  was  absorbed,  and  the  bed- 
ourtains  hid  his  iniquity.  Fan's  best  velvet  jacket 
and  hat,  ermine  muff,  and  a  sofa-pillow  for  pannier, 
finished  off  the  costume,  and  tripping  along  with 
elbows  out,  Tom  appeared  before  the  amazed  Polly 
just  as  the  chapter  ended.  She  enjoyed  the  joke  so 
heartily,  that  Tom  forgot  consequences,  and  pro 
posed  going  down  into  the  parlor  to  surprise  the 
girls. 

44  Goodness,  no  !  Fanny  never  would  forgive  us  if 
you  showed  her  curls  and  things  to  those  people. 
There  are  gentlemen  among  them,  and  it  would  n't  be 
proper,"  said  Polly,  alarmed  at  the  idea. 

44  All  the  more  fun.  Fan  has  n't  treated  you  well, 
and  it  will  serve  her  right  if  you  introduce  me  as  your 
dear  friend,  Miss  Shaw.  Come  on,  it  will  be  a  jolly 
lark." 

44 1  would  n't  for  the  world  ;  it  would  be  so  mean. 
Take  'em  off,  Tom,  and  I  '11  play  anything  else  you 
like." 

44 1  ain't  going  to  dress  up  for  nothing ;  I  look  so 
lovely,  some  one  must  admire  me.  Take  me  down, 
Polly,  and  see  if  they  don't  call  me  4  a  sweet  crea 
ture.'  " 

Tom  looked  so  unutterably  ridiculous  as  he  tossed 
his  curls  and  pranced,  that  Polly  went  off  into  another 
gale  of  merriment ;  but  even  while  she  laughed,  sh^ 
resolved  not  to  let  him  mortify  his  sister. 

44  Now,  then,  get  out  of  the  way  if  you  won't  come  ? 
I  'in  going  down,"  said  Tom. 

44  No,  you  're  not." 


8o  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

"  How  will  3rou  help  it,  Miss  Prim  ?  " 

"  So."  And  Polly  locked  the  door,  put  the  key  in 
her  pocket,  and  nodded  at  him  defiantly. 

Tom  was  a  pepper-pot  as  to  temper,  and  anything 
like  opposition  always  had  a  bad  effect.  Forgetting 
his  costume,  he  strode  up  to  Polly,  saying,  with  a 
threatening  wag  of  the  head,  "  None  of  that.  1  won't 
stand  it." 

"  Promise  not  to  plague  Fan,  and  I  '11  let  you  out.'* 

"  Won't  promise  anything.  Give  me  that  key,  or 
1  '11  make  you." 

"  Now,  Tom,  don't  be  savage.  I  only  want  to  keep 
you  out  of  a  scrape,  for  Fan  will  be  raging  if  you  go. 
Take  off  her  things,  and  I  '11  give  up." 

Tom  vouchsafed  no  reply,  but  marched  to  the  other 
door,  which  was  fast,  as  Polly  knew,  looked  out  of 
the  three-story  window,  and  finding  no  escape  possi 
ble,  came  back  with  a  wrathful  face.  "  Will  you  give 
me  that  key  ?  " 

u  No,  I  won't,"  said  Polly,  valiantly. 

"  I  'm  stronger  than  you  are  ;  so  you  'd  better  hand 
over." 

"  I  know  you  are  ;  but  it 's  cowardly  for  a  great  boy 
like  you  to  rob  a  girl." 

"I  don't  want  to  hurt  you;  but,  by  George!  I 
won't  stand  this  !  " 

Tom  paused  as  Polly  spoke,  evidently  ashamed  of 
himself;  but  his  temper  was  up,  and  he  would  n't  give 
in.  If  Polly  had  cried  a  little  just  here,  he  would 
have  yielded ;  unfortunately  she  giggled,  for  Tom's 
fierce  attitude  was  such  a  funny  contrast  to  his  dress 
that  she  could  n't  help  it.  That  settled  the  matter. 


Scrapes.  81 

No  girl  that  ever  lived  should  giggle  at  him,  much 
less  lock  him  up  like  a  small  child.  Without  a  word, 
he  made  a  grab  at  Pony's  arm,  for  the  hand  holding 
the  key  was  still  in  ner  pocket.  With  her  other  hand 
she  clutchec)  her  frock,  and  for  a  minute  held  on 
stoutly.  But  Tom's  strong  fingers  were  irresistible  ; 
rip  went  the  pocket,  out  came  the  hand,  and  with  a 
cry  of  pain  from  Polly,  the  key  fell  on  the  floor. 

"  It 's  your  own  fault  if  you  }re  hurt.  I  did  n't 
mean  to,"  muttered  Tom,  as  he  hastily  departed,  leav 
ing  Polly  to  groan  over  her  sprained  wrist.  lie  went 
down,  but  not  into  the  parlor,  for  somehow  the  joke 
seemed  to  have  lost  its  relish  ;  so  he  made  the  girls  in 
the  kitchen  laugh,  and  then  crept  up  the  back  way,  hop 
ing  to  make  it  all  right  with  Polly.  But  she  had  gone 
to  grandma's  room,  for,  though  the  old  lady  was  out, 
it  seemed  a  refuge.  He  had  just  time  to  get  things  in 
order,  when  Fanny  came  up,  crosser  than  ever;  for 
Trix  had  been  telling  her  of  all  sorts  of  fun  in  which  she 
might  have  had  a  share,  if  Polly  had  held  her  tongue. 

"  Where  is  she?"  asked  Fan,  wishing  to  vent  her 
vexation  on  her  friend. 

u  Moping  in  her  room,  I  suppose,"  replied  Tom, 
who  was  discovered  reading  studiously. 

Now,  while  this  had  been  happening,  Maud  had 
been  getting  into  hot  water  also ;  for  when  her  maid 
left  her,  to  see  a  friend  below,  Miss  Maud  paraded 
into  Polly's  room,  and  solaced  herself  with  mischief 
In  an  evil  hour  Polly  had  let  her  play  boat  in  her  big 
trunk,  which  stood  empty.  Since  then  Polly  had 
stored  some  of  her  most  private  treasures  in  the  up 
per  tray,  so  that  she  might  feel  sure  they  were  safe 


82  Art  Old- Fashioned  Girl. 

from  all  eyes.  She  had  forgotten  to  lock  the  trunk, 
and  when  Maud  raised  the  lid  to  begin  her  voyage, 
several  objects  of  interest  met  her  eyes.  She  was 
deep  in  her  researches  when  Fan  came  in  and  looked 
over  her  shoulder,  feeling  too  cross  with  Polly  to 
chide  Maud. 

As  Polly  had  no  money  for  presents,  she  had  ex 
erted  her  ingenuity  to  devise  all  sorts  of  gifts,  hoping 
by  quantity  to  atone  for  any  shortcomings  in  quality. 
Some  of  her  attempts  were  successful,  others  were 
failures  ;  but  she  kept  them  all,  fine  or  funny,  know 
ing  the  children  at  home  would  enjoy  anything  new. 
Some  of  Maud's  cast-off  toys  had  been  neatly  mended 
for  Kitty  ;  some  of  Fan's  old  ribbons  and  laces  were 
converted  into  dolls'  finery ;  and  Tom's  little  figures, 
whittled  out  of  wood  in  idle  minutes,  were  laid  away 
to  show  Will  what  could  be  done  with  a  knife. 

"  What  rubbish  !  "  said  Fanny. 

"  Queer  girl,  is  n't  she  ?  "  added  Tom,  who  had  fol 
lowed  to  see  what  was  going  on. 

"  Don't  you  laugh  at  Polly's  things.  She  makes 
nicer  dolls  than  you,  Fan ;  and  she  can  wite  and 
dwar  ever  so  much  better  than  Tom,"  cried  Maud. 

"  How  do  you  know?  I  never  saw  her  draw,"  said 
Tom. 

"  Here 's  a  book  with  lots  of  pictures  in  it.  I  can't 
wead  the  witing  ;  but  the  pictures  are  so  funny." 

Eager  to  display  her  friend's  accomplishments, 
Maud  pulled  out  a  fat  little  book,  marked  "  Polly's 
Journal,"  and  spread  it  in  her  lap. 

"  Only  the  pictures ;  no  harm  in  taking  a  look  at 
'em,"  said  Tom. 


Scrapes.  83 

*  Just  one  peep,"  answered  Fanny ;  and  the  next 
minute  both  were  laughing  at  a  droll  sketch  of  Tom 
in  the  gutter,  with  the  big  dog  howling  over  him,  and 
the  velocipede  running  away.  Very  rough  and  faulty, 
but  so  funny,  that  it  was  evident  Polly's  sense  of 
humor  was  strong.  A  few  pages  farther  back  came 
Fanny  and  Mr.  Frank,  caricatured ;  then  grandma, 
carefully  done ;  Tom  reciting  his  battle-piece ;  Mr. 
Shaw  and  Polly  in  the  park;  Maud  being  borne 
away  by  Katy ;  and  all  the  school-girls  turned  into 
ridicule  with  an  unsparing  hand. 

"  Sly  little  puss,  to  make  fun  of  us  behind  our 
backs,"  said  Fan,  rather  nettled  by  Polly's  quiet  re 
taliation  for  many  slights  from  herself  and  friends. 

"  She  does  draw  well,"  said  Tom,  looking  critically 
at  the  sketch  of  a  boy  with  a  pleasant  face,  round 
whom  Polly  had  drawn  rays  like  the  sun,  and  under 
which  was  written,  "  My  dear  Jimmy." 

"  You  wouldn't  admire  her,  if  you  knew  what  she 
wrote  here  about  you,"  said  Fanny,  whose  eyes  had 
strayed  to  the  written  page  opposite,  and  lingered 
there  long  enough  to  read  something  that  excited  her 
curiosity. 

"  What  is  it?"  asked  Tom,  forgetting  his  honor 
able  resolves  for  a  minute. 

"  She  says,  '  I  try  to  like  Tom,  and  when  he  is 
pleasant  we  do  very  well ;  but  he  don't  stay  so  long. 
He  gets  cross  and  rough,  and  disrespectful  to  his 
father  and  mother,  and  plagues  us  girls,  and  is  so 
horrid  I  almost  hate  him.  It 's  very  wrong,  but  I 
can't  help  it.'  How  do  you  like  that  ?  "  asked  Fanny. 

"  Go  ahead,  and  see  how  she  comes  down  on  you, 
ma'am,"  retorted  Tom,  who  had  read  on  a  bit. 


84  An  O Id-Fashioned  GirL 

"Does  she?"  And  Fanny  continued,  rapidly: 
"  As  for  Fan,  I  don't  think  we  can  be  friends  any 
more  ;  for  she  told  her  father  a  lie,  and  won't  forgive 
rne  for  not  doing  so  too.  I  used  to  think  her  a  very 
fine  girl ;  but  I  don't  now.  If  she  would  be  as  she 
was  when  I  first  knew  her,  I  should  love  her  just  the 
same ;  but  she  is  n't  kind  to  me  ;  and  though  she  is 
always  talking  about  politeness,  I  don't  think  it  is 
polite  to  treat  company  as  she  does  me  She  thinks 
I  am  odd  and  countrified,  and  I  dare  say  I  am ;  but  I 
should  n't  laugh  at  a  girl's  clothes  because  she  was 
poor,  or  keep  her  out  of  the  way  because  she  did  n't 
do  just  as  other  girls  do  here.  I  see  her  make  fun  of 
me,  and  I  can't  feel  as  I  did  ;  and  I  'd  go  home,  only 
it  would  seem  ungrateful  to  Mr.  Shaw  and  grandma, 
and  I  do  love  them  dearly." 

u  I  sa}r,  Fan,  you  've  got  it  now.  Shut  the  book 
and  come  away,"  cried  Tom,  enjoying  this  broadside 
immensely,  but  feeling  guilty,  as  well  he  might. 

"  Just  one  bit  more,"  whispered  Fanny,  turning  on 
a  page  or  two,  and  stopping  at  a  leaf  that  was  blurred 
here  and  there,  as  if  tears  had  dropped  on  it. 

"  Sunday  morning,  early.  Nobody  is  up  to  spoil 
my  quiet  time,  and  I  must  write  my  journal,  for  I  've 
been  so  bad  lately,  I  couldn't  bear  to  do  it.  I'm 
glad  my  visit  is  most  done,  for  things  worry  me  here, 
and  there  is  n't  any  one  to  help  me  get  right  when  I 
get  wrong.  I  used  to  envy  Fanny ;  but  I  don't  now, 
for  her  father  and  mother  don't  take  care  of  her  as 
mine  do  of  me.  She  is  afraid  of  her  father,  and  makes 
her  mother  do  as  she  likes.  I  'm  glad  I  came  though, 
for  I  see  money  don't  give  people  everything  ;  but  I  'd 
like  a  little  all  the  same,  for  it  is  so  comfortable  to 


Scrapes.  85 

buy  nice  things.  I  read  over  my  journal  just  now, 
and  I  'm  afraid  it 's  not  a  good  one  ;  for  I  have  said 
all  sorts  of  things  about  the  people  here,  and  it  is  n't 
kind.  I  should  tear  it  out,  only  I  promised  to  keep 
my  diary,  and  I  want  to  talk  over  things  that  puzzle 
me  with  mother.  I  see  now  that  it  is  my  fault  a  good 
deal ;  for  I  have  n't  been  half  as  patient  and  pleasant 
as  I  ought  to  be.  I  will  truly  try  for  the  rest  of  the 
time,  and  be  as  good  and  grateful  as  I  can  ;  for  I  want 
them  to  like  me,  though  I  'm  only  4  an  old-fashioned 
country  girl.' " 

That  last  sentence  made  Fanny  shut  the  book,  with 
a  face  full  of  self-reproach ;  for  she  had  said  those 
words  herself,  in  a  fit  of  petulance,  and  Polly  had 
made  no  answer,  though  her  eyes  filled  and  her  cheeks 
burned.  Fan  opened  her  lips  to  say  something ; 
but  not  a  sound  followed,  for  there  stood  Polly  look 
ing  at  them  with  an  expression  they  had  never  seen 
before. 

"  What  are  you  doing  with  my  things  ? "  she 
demanded,  in  a  low  tone,  while  her  eyes  kindled 
and  her  color  changed. 

"Maud  showed  us  a  book  she  found,  and  we  were 
Just  looking  at  the  pictures,"  began  Fanny,  dropping 
it  as  if  it  burnt  her  fingers. 

44  And  reading  my  journal,  and  laughing  at  my 
presents,  and  then  putting  the  blame  on  Maud.  It 's 
the  meanest  thing  I  ever  saw ;  and  I  '11  never  forgive 
vou  as  long  as  I  live  !  " 

Polly  said  this  all  in  one  indignant  breath,  and  then 
as  if  afraid  of  saying  too  much,  ran  out  of  the 
room  with  such  a  look  of  mingled  contempt,  grief, 
and  anger,  that  the  three  culprits  stood  dumb  with 


86  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

shame.  Tom  had  n't  even  a  whistle  at  his  command ; 
Maud  was  so  scared  at  gentle  Polly's  outbreak,  that 
she  sat  as  still  as  a  mouse  ;  while  Fanny,  conscience- 
stricken,  laid  back  the  poor  little  presents  with  a 
respectful  hand,  for  somehow  the  thought  of  Polly's 
poverty  came  over  her  as  it  never  had  done  before ; 
and  these  odds  and  ends,  so  carefully  treasured  up  for 
those  at  home,  touched  Fanny,  and  grew  beautiful 
in  her  eyes.  As  she  laid  by  the  little  book,  the 
confessions  in  it  reproached  her  more  sharply  than 
any  words  Polly  could  have  spoken ;  for  she  had 
laughed  at  her  friend,  had  slighted  her  sometimes, 
and  been  unforgiving  for  an  innocent  offence.  The 
last  page,  where  Polly  took  the  blame  on  herself,  and 
promised  to  "  truly  try"  to  be  more  kind  and  patient, 
went  to  Fanny's  heart,  melting  all  the  coldness  away, 
and  she  could  only  lay  her  head  on  the  trunk,  sob 
bing,  "  It  was  n't  Polly's  fault ;  it  was  all  mine." 

Tom,  still  red  with  shame  at  being  caught  in  such 
a  scrape,  left  Fanny  to  her  tears,  and  went  manfully 
away  to  find  the  injured  Polly,  and  confess  his  mani 
fold  transgressions.  But  Polly  couldn't  be  found. 
He  searched  high  and  low  in  every  room,  yet  no  sign 
of  the  girl  appeared,  and  Tom  began  to  get  anxious. 
"  She  can't  have  run  away  home,  can  she?"  he  said 
to  himself,  as  he  paused  before  the  hat-tree.  There 
was  the  little  round  hat,  and  Tom  gave  it  a  remorse 
ful  smooth,  remembering  how  many  times  he  had 
tweaked  itjialf  off,  or  poked  it  over  poor  Polly's  eyes, 
"  Maybe  she 's  gone  down  to  the  office,  to  tell  pa. 
*T  is  n't  a  bit  like  her,  though.  Any  way,  I  '11  take  a 
look  round  the  corner." 

Eager  to  get  his  boots,  Tom  pulled  open  the  door 


Scrapes.  87 

of  a  dark  closet  under  the  stairs,  and  nearly  tumbled 
over  backward  with  surprise  ;  for  there,  on  the  floor, 
with  her  head  pillowed  on  a  pair  of  rubbers,  lay  Polly 
in  an  attitude  of  despair.  This  mournful  spectacle 
sent  Tom's  penitent  speech  straight  out  of  his  head, 
and  with  an  astonished  "  Hullo  I  '*  he  stood  and  stared 
in  impressive  silence.  Polly  was  n't  crying,  and  lay 
so  still,  that  Tom  began  to  think  she  might  be  in  a  fit 
or  a  faint,  and  bent  anxiously  down  to  inspect  the 
pathetic  bunch.  A  glimpse  of  wet  eyelashes,  a  round 
cheek  redder  than  usual,  and  lips  parted  by  quick 
breathing,  relieved  his  mind  upon  that  point;  so, 
taking  courage,  he  sat  down  on  the  boot-jack,  and 
begged  pardon  like  a  man. 

Now,  Polly  was  very  angry,  and  I  think  she  had  a 
right  to  be  ;  but  she  was  not  resentful,  and  after  the 
first  flash  was  over,  she  soon  began  to  feel  better 
about  it.  It  was  n't  easy  to  forgive  ;  but,  as  she  lis 
tened  to  Tom's  honest  voice,  getting  gruff  with 
remorse  now  and  then,  she  could  n't  harden  her  heart 
against  him,  or  refuse  to  make  up  when  he  so  frankly 
owned  that  it  "  was  confounded  mean  to  read  her 
book  that  way."  She  liked  his  coming  and  begging 
pardon  at  once  ;  it  was  a  handsome  thing  to  do  ;  she 
appreciated  it,  and  forgave  him  in  her  heart  some 
time  before  she  did  with  her  lips ;  for,  to  tell  the 
truth,  Polly  had  a  spice  of  girlish  malice,  and  rather 
liked  to  see  domineering  Tom  eat  humble-pie,  just 
enough  to  do  him  good,  you  know.  She  felt  that 
atonement  was  proper,  and  considered  it  no  more  than 
just  that  Fan  should  drench  a  handkerchief  or  two 
with  repentant  tears,  and  that  Tom  should  sit  on  a 


88  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

very  uncomfortable  seat  and  call  himself  hard  names 
for  five  or  ten  minutes  before  she  relented. 

»4  Come,  now,  do  say  a  word  to  a  fellow.  I'm  get 
ting  the  worst  of  it,  any  way  ;  for  there 's  Fan,  crying 
her  eyes  out  upstairs,  and  here  are  you  stowed  away 
in  a  dark  closet  as  dumb  as  a  fish,  and  nobody  but 
me  to  bring  you  both  round,  I  'd  have  cut  over  to 
the  Smythes  and  got  ma  home  to  fix  things,  only  it 
looked  like  backing  out  of  the  scrape  ;  so  I  did  n't," 
said  Tom,  as  a  last  appeal. 

Polly  was  glad  to  hear  that  Fan  was  crying.  It 
would  do  her  good;  but  she  couldn't  help  softening 
to  Tom,  who  did  seem  in  a  predicament  between  two 
weeping  damsels.  A  little  smile  began  to  dimple  the 
cheek  that  wasn't  hidden,  and  then  a  hand  came 
slowly  out  from  under  the  curly  bead,  and  was 
stretched  toward  him  silently.  Tom  was  just  going 
to  give  it  a  hearty  shake,  when  he  saw  a  red  mark  on 
the  wrist,  and  knew  what  made  it.  His  face  changed, 
and  he  took  the  chubby  hand  so  gently,  that  Polly 
peeped  to  see  what  it  meant. 

"  Will  you  forgive  that,  too?"  he  asked,  in  a  whis 
per,  stroking  the  red  wriet. 

"  Yes  ;  it  don't  hurt  much  now."  And  Polly  drew 
her  hand  away,  sorry  he  had  seen  it. 

" 1  was  a  beast,  that 's  what  I  was  !  "  said  Tom,  in 
a  tone  of  great  disgust;  and  just  at  that  awkward 
minute  down  tumbled  his  father's  old  beaver  over  his 
head  and  face,  putting  a  comical  quencher  on  his  self- 
reproaches. 

Of  course,  neither  could  help  laughing  at  that ;  and 
when  he  emerged,  Polly  was  sitting  up,  looking  as 


Scrapes.  89 

much  better  for  her  shower  as  he  did  for  his  momen 
tary  eclipse. 

u  Fan  feels  dreadfully.  Will  you  kiss  and  be 
fi  lends,  if  I  trot  her  down  ?  "  asked  Tom,  remember 
ing  his  fellow-sinner. 

"  I  '11  go  to  her."  And  Polly  whisked  out  of  the 
closet  as  suddenly  as  she  had  whisked  in,  leaving 
Tom  sitting  on  the  boot-jack,  with  a  radiant  counte 
nance. 

How  the  girls  made  it  up  no  one  ever  knew ;  but 
after  much  talking  and  crying,  kissing  ami  laughing, 
the  breach  was  healed,  and  peace  declared.  A  slight 
haze  still  lingered  in  the  air  after  the  storm,  for  Fanny 
was  very  humble  and  tender  that  evening ;  Tom  a 
trifle  pensive,  but  distressingly  polite,  and  Polly  mag 
nanimously  friendly  to  every  one  ;  for  generous  na 
tures  like  to  forgive,  and  Polly  enjoyed  the  petting 
after  the  insult, like  a  very  human  girl. 

As  she  was  brushing  her  hair  at  bedtime  there  came 
a  tap  on  her  door,  and,  opening  it,  she  beheld  nothing 
but  a  tall  black  bottle,  with  a  strip  of  red  flannel  tied 
round  it  like  a  cravat,  and  a  cocked-hat  note  on  the 
cork.  Inside  were  these  lines,  written  in  a  sprawling 
hand  with  very  black  ink : 

"DEAR  POLLY,  —  Opydilldock  is  first-rate  for 
sprains.  You  put  a  lot  on  the  flannel  and  do  up 
your  wrist,  and  I  guess  it  will  be  all  right  in  the 
morning.  Will  you  come  a  sleigh-ride  to-morrow? 
I  'm  awful  sorry  I  hurt  you.  TOM." 


CHAFrER  VL 

GRANDMA. 

{(  "WHERE'S  Polly?"  asked  Fan  one  snowy  after- 
•  •  noon,  as  she  earne  into  the  dining-rooni  where 
Tom  was  reposing  on  the  sofa  with  his  boots  in  the 
air,  absorbed  in  one  of  those  delightful  books  in  which 
boys  are  cast  away  on  desert  islands,  where  every 
known  fruit,  vegetable  and  flower  is  in  its  prime  all  the 
year  round ;  or,  lost  in  boundless  forests,  where  the 
young  heroes  have  thrilling  adventures,  kill  impossible 
beasts,  and,  when  the  author's  invention  gives  out,  sud 
denly  find  their  way  home,  laden  with  tiger  skins,  tame 
buffaloes  and  other  pleasing  trophies  of  their  prowess. 

"  Dun  no,"  was  Tom's  brief  reply,  for  he  was  just 
escaping  from  an  alligator  of  the  largest  size. 

"  Do  put  down  that  stupid  book,  and  let 's  do 
something,"  said  Fanny,  after  a  listless  stroll  round 
the  room. 

"Hi,  they  've  got  him !  "  was  the  only  answer  vouch 
safed  by  the  absorbed  reader. 

"Where's  Polly?"  asked  Maud,  joining  the  party 
with  her  hands  full  of  paper  dolls  all  suffering  for 
ball-dresses. 

"  Do  get  along,  and  don't  bother  me,"  cried  Tom, 
exasperated  at  the  interruption. 


Grandma.  91 

"  Then  tell  us  where  she  is.  I  'm  sure  you  know, 
for  she  was  down  here  a  little  while  ago,"  said 
Fanny. 

"  Up  in  grandma's  room,  maybe." 

"  Provoking  thing !  you  knew  it  all  the  time,  and 
did  n't  tell,  just  to  plague  us,"  scolded  Maud. 

But  Tom  was  now  under  water  stabbing  his  alliga 
tor,  and  took  no  notice  of  the  indignant  departure  of 
the  young  ladies. 

"  Polly  's  always  poking  up  in  grandma's  room.  I 
don't  see  what  fun  there  is  in  it,"  said  Fanny  as  they 
went  up  stairs. 

"  Polly 's  a  verwy  queer  girl,  and  gwandma  pets  her 
a  gweat  deal  more  than  she  does  me,"  observed  Maud, 
with  an  injured  air. 

u  Let's  peek  and  see  what  they  are  doing,"  whis 
pered  Fan,  pausing  at  the  half-open  door. 

Grandma  was  sitting  before  a  quaint  old  cabinet, 
the  doors  of  which  stood  wide  open,  showing  glimpses 
of  the  faded  relics  treasured  there.  On  a  stool,  at 
the  old  lady's  feet,  sat  Polly,  looking  up  with  intent 
face  and  eager  eyes,  quite  absorbed  in  the  history  of 
a  high-heeled  brocade  shoe  which  lay  in  her  lap. 

"  Well,  my  dear,"  grandma  was  saying,  "  she 
had  it  on  the  very  day  that  Uncle  Joe  came  in  as  she 
sat  at  work,  and  said,  *  Dolly,  we  must  be  married  at 
once.'  4  Very  well,  Joe,'  says  Aunt  Dolly,  and 
down  she  went  to  the  parlor,  where  the  minister  was 
waiting,  never  stopping  to  change  the  dimity  dress 
she  wore,  and  was  actually  married  with  her  scissors 
and  pin-ball  at  her  side,  and  her  thimble  on.  That 
was  in  war  times,  1812,  my  dear,  and  Uncle  Joe 
was  in  the  army,  so  he  had  to  go,  and  he  took 


92  An  O Id-Fashioned  GirL 

that  very  little  pin-ball  with  him.  Here  it  is,  with 
the  mark  of  a  bullet  through  it,  for  he  always  said  his 
Dolly's  cushion  saved  his  life." 

u  How  interesting  that  is  ! "  cried  Polly,  as  she  ex 
amined  the  faded  cushion  with  the  hole  in  it. 

"  Why,  grandma,  you  never  told  me  that  story," 
said  Fanny,  hurrying  in,  finding  the  prospect  was  a 
pleasant  one  for  a  stormy  afternoon. 

"You  never  asked  me  to  tell  you  anything,  my 
dear,  so  I  kept  my  old  stories  to  myself,"  answered 
grandma,  quietly. 

"  Tell  some  now,  please.  May  we  stay  and  see 
the  funny  things  ?  "  said  Fan  and  Maud,  eyeing  the 
open  cabinet  with  interest. 

"  If  Polly  likes  ;  she  is  my  company,  and  I  am  try 
ing  to  entertain  her,  for  I  love  to  have  her  come," 
said  grandma,  with  her  old-time  politeness. 

"  Oh,  yes !  do  let  them  stay  and  hear  the  stories. 
I've  often  told  them  what  good  times  we  have  up 
here,  and  teased  them  to  come,  but  they  think  it 's  too 
quiet.  Now,  sit  down,  girls,  and  let  grandma  go  on. 
You  see  I  pick  out  something  in  the  cabinet  that 
looks  interesting,  and  then  she  tells  me  about  it," 
said  Polly,  eager  to  include  the  girls  in  her  pleasures, 
and  glad  to  get  them  interested  in  grandma's  remi 
niscences,  for  Polly  knew  how  happy  it  made  the  lonely 
old  lady  to  live  over  her  past,  and  to  have  the  children 
round  her. 

"  Here  are  three  drawers  that  have  not  been 
opened  yet ;  each  take  one,  and  choose  something  from 
it  for  me  to  tell  about,"  said  Madam,  quite  excited 
at  the  unusual  interest  in  her  treasures. 

So  the  girls  each  opened  a  drawer  and  turned  over 


Grandma.  93 

the  contents  till  they  found  something  they  wanted  to 
know  about.  Maud  was  ready  first,  and  holding  up 
an  oddly  shaped  linen  bag,  with  a  big  blue  F  embroi 
dered  on  it,  demanded  her  story.  Grandma  smiled 
as  she  smoothed  the  old  thing  tenderly,  and  began 
her  story  with  evident  pleasure. 

"  My  sister  Nelly  and  I  went  to  visit  an  aunt  of 
ours,  when  we  were  little  girls,  but  we  didn't  have  a 
very  good  time,  for  she  was  extremely  strict.  One 
afternoon,  when  she  had  gone  out  to  tea,  and  old 
Debby,  the  maid,  was  asleep  in  her  room,  we  sat  on 
the  door-step,  feeling  homesick,  and  ready  for  any 
thing  to  amuse  us. 

"  *  What  shall  we  do? '  said  Nelly. 

"  Just  as  she  spoke,  a  ripe  plum  dropped  bounce  on 
the  grass  before  us,  as  if  answering  her  question.  It 
was  all  the  plum's  fault,  for  if  it  had  n't  fallen  at  that 
minute,  I  never  should  have  had  the  thought  which 
popped  into  my  mischievous  mind. 

u  '  Let 's  have  as  many  as  we  want,  and  plague  Aunt 
Betsey,  to  pay  her  for  being  so  cross/  I  said,  giving 
Nelly  half  the  great  purple  plum. 

"  4  It  would  be  dreadful  naughty/  began  Nelly, ;  but 
I  guess  we  will/  she  added,  as  the  sweet  mouthful 
slipped  down  her  throat. 

" 4  Debby 's  asleep.  Come  on,  then,  and  help  me 
shake,'  I  said,  getting  up,  eager  for  the  fun. 

*'  We  shook  and  shook  till  we  got  red  in  the  face,  but 
not  one  dropped,  for  the  tree  was  large,  and  our  little 
urms  were  not  strong  enough  to  stir  the  boughs. 
Then  we  threw  stones,  but  only  one  green  and  one 
half-ripe  one  came  down,  and  my  last  stone  broke  the 
shed  window,  so  there  was  an  end  of  that. 


94  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

V 

14  'It's  as  provoking  as  Aunt  Betsey  herself/  said 
Nell^,  as  we  sat  down,  out  of  breath. 

"  '  I  wish  the  wind  would  come  and  blow  'em  down 
for  us,'  panted  I,  staring  up  at  the  plums  with  long 
ing  eyes. 

"'If  wishing  would  do  any  good,  I  should  wish  'em 
in  my  lap  at  once,'  added  Nelly. 

"  '  You  might  as  well  wish  'em  in  your  mouth  and 
done  with  it,  if  you  are  too  lazy  to  pick  'em  up.  If 
the  ladder  was  n't  too  heavy  we  could  try  that,'  said 
I,  determined  to  have  them. 

"  '  You  know  we  can't  stir  it,  so  what  is  the  use  of 
talking  about  it?  You  proposed  getting  the  plums, 
now  let's  see  you  do  it,'  answered  Nelly,  rather 
crossly,  for  she  had  bitten  the  green  plum,  and  it 
puckered  her  mouth. 

"  *  Wait  a  minute,  and  you  will  see  me  do  it,'  cried  1, 
as  a  new  thought  came  into  my  naughty  head. 

"  '  What  are  yeu  taking  your  shoes  and  socks  off 
for  ?  You  can't  climb  the  tree,  Fan.' 

"  '  Don't  ask  questions,  but  be  ready  to  pick  'em  up 
when  they  fall,  Miss  Laz}^bones.' 

"  With  this  mysterious  speech  I  pattered  into  the 
house  bare-footed  and  full  of  my  plan.  Up  stairs  I 
went  to  a  window  opening  on  the  shed  roof.  Out  I 
got,  and  creeping  carefully  along  till  I  came  near  the 
tree,  I  stood  up,  and  suddenly  crowed  like  the  little 
rooster.  Nelly  looked  up,  and  stared,  and  laughed, 
and  clapped  her  hands  when  she  sa^y  what  I  was 
going  to  do. 

"  'I'm  afraid  you'll  slip  and  get  hurt.' 

"  '  Don't  care  if  I  do ;  I  '11  have  those  plums  if  I 
break  my  neck  doing  it,'  and  half  sliding,  half  walk- 


Grandma.  95 

Ing,  I  went  down  the  sloping  roof,  till  the  boughs  of 
the  tree  were  within  my  reach. 

44  *  Hurrah  !  *  cried  Nelly,  dancing  down  below,  as  my 
first  shake  sent  a  dozen  plums  rattling  round  her. 

44  Hurrah  !  "  cried  I,  letting  go  one  branch  and  try- 
ijig  to  reach  another.  But  as  I  did  so  my  foot  slipped, 
I  tried  to  catch  something  to  hold  by,  but  found  noth 
ing,  and  with  a  cry,  down  I  fell,  like  a  very  big  plum, 
on  the  grass  below. 

44  Fortunately  the  shed  was  low,  the  grass  was  thick, 
and  the  tree  broke  my  fall,  but  I  got  a  bad  bump  and 
a  terrible  shaking.  Nelly  thought  I  was  killed,  and 
began  to  cry  with  her  mouth  full.  But  I  picked  my 
self  up  in  a  minute,  for  I  was  used  to  such  tumbles, 
and  didn't  mind  the  pain  half  as  much  as  the  loss  of 
the  plums. 

44  *  Hush  !  Debby  will  hear  and  spoil  all  the  fun.  I 
said  I  'd  get  'em  and  I  have.  See  what  lots  have 
come  down  with  me/ 

44  So  there  had,  for  my  fall  shook  the  tree  almost  as 
much  as  it  did  me,  and  the  green  and  purple  fruit  lay 
all  about  us. 

44  By  the  time  the  bump  on  my  forehead  had  swelled 
as  big  as  a  nut,  our  aprons  were  half  full,  and  we  sat 
down  to  enjoy  ourselves.  But  we  didn't.  O  dear, 
no !  for  many  of  the  plums  were  not  ripe,  some  were 
hurt  by  the  birds,  some  crushed  in  falling,  and  many 
as  hard  as  stones.  Nelly  got  stung  by  a  wasp,  my 
head  began  to  ache,  and  we  sat  looking  at  one  an 
other  rather  dismally,  when  Ne'ly  had  a  bright  idea. 

44  4  Let 's  cook  'em,  then  they  '11  be  good,  and  wo  can 
put  some  away  in  our  little  pails  for  to-morrow.' 


96  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

"'That  will  be  splendid!  There's  a  fire  in  the 
kitchen,  Debby  always  leaves  the  kettle  on,  and  we 
can  use  her  saucepan,  and  I  know  where  the  sugar 
is,  and  we  '11  have  a  grand  time/ 

"  In  we  went,  and  fell  to  work  very  quietly.  It  was 
a  large,  open  fire-place,  with  the  coals  nicely  covered 
up,  and  the  big  kettle  simmering  on  the  hook.  We 
raked  open  the  fire,  put  on  the  saucepan,  and  in  it  the 
best  of  our  plums,  with  water  enough  to  spoil  them. 
But  we  did  n't  know  that,  and  felt  very  important  as 
we  sat  waiting  for  it  to  boil,  each  armed  with  a  big 
spoon,  while  the  sugar  box  stood  between  us  ready  to 
be  used. 

"  How  slow  they  were,  to  be  sure  !  I  never  knew 
such  obstinate  things,  for  they  wouldn't  soften, 
though  they  danced  about  in  the  boiling  water,  and 
bobbed  against  the  cover  as  if  they  were  doing  their 
best. 

"  The  sun  began  to  get  low,  we  were  afraid  Debby 
would  come  down,  and  still  those  dreadful  plums 
would  n't  look-  like  sauce.  At  last  they  began  to 
burst,  the  water  got  a  lovely  purple,  we  put  lots  of 
sugar  in,  and  kept  tasting  till  our  aprons  and  faces 
were  red,  and  our  lips  burnt  with  the  hot  spoons. 

"  '  There 's  too  much  juice/  said  Nelly,  shaking  her 
head  wisely.  4It  ought  to  be  thick  and  nice  like 
mamma's/ 

"  4 1  '11  pour  off  some  of  the  juice,  and  we  can  drink 
it,'  said  I,  feeling  that  I  'd  made  a  mistake  in  my 
cooking. 

"  So  Nelly  got  a  bowl,  and  I  got  a  towel  and  lifted 
the  big  saucepan  carefully  off.  It  was  heavy  and  hot, 


Grandma.  97 

and  I  was  a  little  afraid  of  it,  but  did  n't  like  to  say 
BO.  Just  as  I  began  to  pour,  Debby  suddenly  called 
from  the  top  of  the  stairs,  4  Children,  what  under  the 
sun  are  you  doing  ? ' 

4*  It  startled  us  both.  Nelly  dropped  the  bowl  and 
ran.  I  dropped  the  saucepan  and  did  n't  run,  for  a 
part  of  the  hot  juice  splashed  upon  ray  bare  feet  and 
tinkles,  and  made  me  scream  with  dreadful  pain. 

44  Down  rushed  Debby  to  find  me  dancing  about  the 
kitchen  with  a  great  bump  on  my  forehead,  a  big 
spoon  in  my  hand,  and  a  pair  of  bright  purple  feet. 
The  plums  were  lying  all  over  the  hearth,  the  sauce 
pan  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  the  basin  was  broken, 
and  the  sugar  swimming  about  as  if  the  bowl  had 
turned  itself  over  trying  to  sweeten  our  mess  for  us. 

44  Debby  was  very  good  to  me,  for  she  never  stopped 
to  scold,  but  laid  me  down  on  the  old  sofa,  and  bound 
up  my  poor  little  feet  with  oil  and  cotton  wool.  Nelly, 
seeing  me  lie  white  and  weak,  thought  I  was  dying, 
and  went  over  to  the  neighbor's  for  Aunt  Betsey,  and 
burst  in  upon  the  old  ladies  sitting  primly  at  their 
tea,  crying,  distractedly, 

4  Oh,  Aunt  Betsey,  come  quick  !  for  the  saucepan 
fell  off  the  shed,  and  Fan's  feet  are  all  boiled  purple  !' 

44  Nobody  laughed  at  this  funny  message,  and  Aunt 
Betsey  ran  all  the  way  home  with  a  muffin  in  her 
hand  and  her  ball  in  her  pocket,  though  the  knitting 
was  left  behind. 

44 1  suffered  a  great  deal,  but  I  was  n't  sorry  after 
ward,  for  I  learned  to  love  Aunt  Betsey,  who  nursed 
me  tenderly,  and  seemed  to  forget  her  strict  ways  in 
her  anxiety  for  me. 


98  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

"  This  bag  was  made  for  my  special  comfort,  and 
hung  on  the  sofa  where  I  lay  all  those  weary  days. 
Aunt  kept  it  full  of  pretty  patchwork,  or,  what  I 
liked  better,  ginger-nuts  and  peppermint  drops,  lo 
amuse  me,  though  she  didn't  approve  of  cosseting 
children  up,  any  more  than  I  do  now." 

" 1  like  that  vewy  well,  and  I  wish  I  could  have 
been  there,"  was  Maud's  condescending  remark,  as 
she  put  back  the  little  bag,  after  a  careful  peep  inside, 
as  if  she  hoped  to  find  an  ancient  ginger-nut,  or  a  well- 
preserved  peppermint  drop  still  lingering  in  some 
corner. 

•l  We  had  plums  enough  that  autumn,  but  di& 
n't  seem  to  care  much  about  them,  after  all,  for  our 
prank  became  a  household  joke,  and,  for  years,  we 
never  saw  the  fruit,  but  Nelly  would  look  at  me 
with  a  funny  face,  and  whisper,  4  Purple  stockings, 
Fan ! ' " 

"Thank  you,  ma'am,"  said  Polly.  "  Now,  Fan, 
your  turn  next." 

"  Well,  I've  a  bundle  of  old  letters,  and  I  'd  like  to 
know  if  there  is  any  story  about  them,"  answered 
Fanny,  hoping  some  romance  might  be  forthcoming. 

Grandma  turned  over  the  little  packet  tied  up  with 
a  faded  pink  ribbon  ;  a  dozen  yellow  notes  written  on 
rough,  thick  paper,  with  red  wafers  still  adhering  to 
the  folds,  showing  plainly  that  they  were  written 
before  the  day  of  initial  note-paper  and  self-sealing 
envelopes. 

"  They  are  not  love-letters,  deary,  but  notes  from 
my  mates  after  I  left  Miss  Cotton's  boarding  schooL 
I  don't  think  there  is  any  story  about  them,"  and 


Grandma.  99 

grandma  turned  them  over  with  spectacles  before  the 
dim  eyes,  so  young  and  bright  when  they  first  read 
the  very  same  notes. 

Fanny  was  about  to  say,  "  I  '11  choose  again,"  when 
grandma  began  to  laugh  so  heartily  that  the  girls  felt 
sure  she  had  caught  some  merry  old  memory  which 
would  amuse  them. 

"  Bless  my  heart,  I  have  n't  thought  of  that  frolic 
this  forty  years.  Poor,  dear,  giddy  Sally  Pomroy, 
and  she 's  a  great-grandmother  now  !  "  cried  the  old 
lady,  after  reading  one  of  the  notes,  and  clearing  the 
mist  off  her  glasses. 

"No^  please  tell  about  her;  I  know  it's  some- 
thing  funny  to  make  you  laugh  so,"  said  Polly  aL  i 
Fan  together. 

u  Well,  it  was  droll,  and  I  'm  glad  I  remembered  it 
for  it 's  just  the  story  to  tell  you  young  things. 

"  It  was  years  ago,"  began  grandma,  briskly,  "  and 
teachers  were  very  much  stricter  than  they  are  now. 
The  girls  at  Miss  Cotton's  were  not  allowed  lights  in 
their  rooms  after  nine  o'clock,  never  went  out  alone, 
and  were  expected  to  behave  like  models  of  propriety 
from  morning  till  night. 

"As  you  may  imagine,  ten  young  girls,  full  of 
spirits  and  fun,  found  these  rules  hard  to  keep,  and 
made  up  for  good  behaviour  in  public  by  all  sorts  of 
frolics  in  private. 

"  Miss  Cotton  and  her  brother  sat  in  the  back  par 
lor  after  school  was  over,  and  the  young  ladies  were 
sent  to  bed.  Mr.  John  was  very  deaf,  and  Miss  Pris- 
cilla  very  near-sighted,  —  two  convenient  afflictions 
for  the  girls  on  some  occasions,  but  once  they  proved 
quite  the  reverse,  as  you  shall  hear. 


ioo  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

"  We  had  been  very  prim  for  a  week,  and  our  bot 
tled  up  spirits  could  no  longer  be  contained ;  so  we 
planned  a  revel  after  our  own  hearts,  and  set  our  wits 
to  work  to  execute  it. 

"  The  firsc  obstacle  was  surmounted  in  this  way . 
As  none  of  us  could  get  o.ut  alone,  we  resolved  to 
lower  Sally  from  the  window,  for  she  was  light  and 
small,  and  very  smart. 

"  With  our  combined  pocket-money  she  was  to  buy 
nuts  and  candy,  cake  and  fruit,  pie,  and  a  candle,  so 
that  we  might  have  a  light,  after  Betsey  took  ours 
away  as  usual. 

"We  were  to  darken  the  window  of  the  inner 
chamber,  set  a  watch  in  the  little  entry,  light  up,  and 
then  for  a  good  time. 

"  At  eight  o'clock  on  the  appointed  evening,  several 
of  us  professed  great  weariness,  and  went  to  our 
room,  leaving  the  rest  sewing  virtuously  with  Miss 
Cotton,  who  read  Hannah  More's  Sacred  Dramas 
aloud,  in  a  way  that  fitted  the  listeners  for  bed  as 
well  as  a  dose  of  opium  would  have  done. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say  I  was  one  of  the  ringleaders  ; 
and  as  soon  as  we  got  up  stairs,  produced  the  rope 
provided  for  the  purpose,  and  invited  Sally  to  be 
lowered.  It  was  an  old-fashioned  house,  sloping 
down  behind,  and  the  closet  window  chosen  by  us 
was  not  many  feet  from  the  ground. 

"It  was  a  summer  evening,  so  that  at  eight  o'clock 
It  was  still  light ;  but  we  were  not  afraid  of  being 
seen,  for  the  street  was  a  lonely  one,  and  our  only 
neighbors  two  old  ladies,  who  put  down  their  curtains 
at  sunset,  and  never  looked  out  till  morning. 

"  Sally  had  been  bribed  by  promises  of  as   many 


Grandma.  101 

1  goodies '  as  she  could  eat,  and  being  a  regular  mad 
cap,  she  was  ready  for  anything. 

kt  Tying  the  rope  round  her  waist  she  crept  out,  and 
we  let  her  safely  down,  sent  a  big  basket  after  her, 
and  saw  her  slip  round  the  corner  in  my  big  sun-bon 
net  and  another  girl's  shawl,  so  that  she  should  not 
be  recognized. 

"  Then  we  put  our  night-gowns  over  our  dresses, 
and  were  laid  peacefully  in  bed  when  Betsey  came  up, 
earlier  than  usual ;  for  it  was  evident  that  Miss  Cot 
ton  felt  a  little  suspicious  at  our  sudden  weariness. 

"  For  half  an  hour  we  lay  laughing  and  whispering, 
as  we  waited  for  the  signal  from  Sally.  At  last  we 
heard  a  cricket  chirp  shrilly  under  the  window,  and 
flying  up,  saw  a  little  figure  below  in  the  twilight. 

u  i  O,  quick  !  quick  ! '  cried  Sally,  panting  with 
haste.  4  Draw  up  the  basket  and  then  get  me  in,  for  I 
saw  Mr.  Cotton  in  the  market,  and  ran  all  the  way 
home,  so  that  I  might  get  in  before  he  came.' 

"  Up  came  the  heavy  basket,  bumping  and  scraping 
on  the  way,  and  smelling,  O,  so  nice !  Down  went 
the  rope,  and  with  a  long  pull,  a  strong  pull,  and  a 
pull  all  together,  we  hoisted  poor  Sally  half-way  up  to 
the  window,  when,  sad  to  tell,  the  rope  slipped  and 
down  she  fell,  only  being  saved  from  broken  bones  by 
the  hay-cock  under  the  window. 

"  4  He 's  coming  !  he 's  coming  !  O  pull  me  up,  for 
mercy  sake ! '  cried  Sally,  scrambling  to  her  feet 
unhurt,  but  a  good  deal  shaken. 

"  We  saw  a  dark  figure  approaching,  and  dragged 
her  in  with  more  bumping  and  scraping,  and  embraced 
her  with  rapture,  for  we  had  just  escaped  being  de- 


102  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl 

tected  by  Mr.  John,  whose  eyes  were  as  sharp  as  his 
ears  were  dull. 

"  We  heard  the  front-door  shut,  then  a  murmur 
of  voices,  and  then  Betsey's  heavy  step  coming  up 
stairs. 

u  Under  the  bed  went  the  basket,  and  into  the  beds 
went  the  conspirators,  and  nothing  could  have  been 
more  decorous  than  the  appearance  of  the  room  when 
Betsey  popped  her  head  in. 

"  '  Master 's  an  old  fidget  to  send  me  travelling  up 
again,  just  because  he  fancied  he  saw  something 
amiss  at  the  window.  Nothing  but  a  curtain  flap 
ping,  or  a  shadder,  for  the  poor  dears  is  sleeping 
like  lambs/ 

"  We  heard  her  say  this  to  herself,  and  a  general 
titter  agitated  the  white  coverlets  as  she  departed. 

u  Sally  was  in  high  feather  at  the  success  of  her 
exploit,  and  danced  about  like  an  elf,  as  she  put  her 
night-gown  on  over  her  frock,  braided  her  hair  in 
funny  little  tails  all  over  her  head,  and  fastened  the 
great  red  pin-cushion  on  her  bosom  for  a  breastpin  in 
honor  of  the  feast. 

"The  other  girls  went  to  their  rooms  as  agreed 
upon,  and  all  was  soon  dark  and  still  up  stairs,  while 
Miss  Cotton  began  to  enjoy  herself  below,  as  she 
always  did  when  '  her  young  charges '  were  safely 
disposed  of. 

"  Then  ghosts  began  to  walk,  and  the  mice  scuttled 
back  to  their  holes  in  alarm,  for  white  figures  glided 
from  room  to  room,  till  all  were  assembled  in  the  little 
chamber. 

"  The  watch  was  set  at  the  entry  door,  the  signal 


Grandma.  103 

agreed  upon,  the  candle  lighted,  and  the  feast  spread 
forth  upon  a  newspaper  on  the  bed,  with  the  coverlet 
arranged  so  that  it  could  be  whisked  over  the  refresh 
ments  at  a  moment's  notice. 

"  How  good  everything  was,  to  be  sure  !  I  don't 
think  I  've  eaten  any  pies  since  that  had  such  a  deli 
cious  flavor  as  those  broken  ones,  eaten  hastily,  in 
that  little  oven  of  a  room,  with  Sally  making  jokes, 
and  the  others  enjoying  stolen  sweets  with  true  girlish 
relish.  Of  course  it  was  very  wicked,  but  I  must  tell 
the  truth. 

"  We  were  just  beginning  on  the  cake  when  the 
loud  scratching  of  a  rat  disturbed  us. 

"  '  The  signal !  fly  !  run  !  hide  !  Hush,  don't  laugh  ! ' 
cried  several  voices,  and  we  scuttled  into  bed  as 
rapidly  and  noiselessly  as  possible,  with  our  mouths 
and  hands  full. 

"  A  long  pause,  broken  by  more  scratching  ;  but  as 
no  one  came,  we  decided  on  sending  to  inquire  what 
it  meant.  I  went  and  found  Mary,  the  picket  guard, 
half  asleep,  and  longing  for  her  share  of  the  feast. 

"  '  It  was  a  real  rat ;  I  've  not  made  a  sound.  Do 
go  and  finish  ;  I  'm  tired  of  this,'  said  Mary,  slapping 
away  at  the  mosquitoes. 

"  Back  I  hurried  with  the  good  news.  Every  one 
flew  up,  briskly.  We  lighted  the  candle  again,  and 
returned  to  our  revel.  The  refreshments  were  some 
what  injured  by  Sally's  bouncing  in  among  them,  but 
•we  did  n't  care,  and  soon  finished  the  cake. 

u  '  Now  let 's  have  the  nuts,'  I  said,  groping  for  the 
paper  bag. 

"  '  They  are  almonds  and  peanuts,  so  we  can  crack 


IO4  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

them  with  our  teeth.  Be  sure  you  get  the  bag  by  the 
right  end/  said  Sally. 

" <  I  know  what  I  'm  about/  and  to  show  her  that  it 
was  ail  right,  I  gave  the  bag  a  little  shake,  when  out 
flew  the  nuts,  rattling  like  a  hail-storm  all  over  the 
uucarpeted  floor. 

"'Now  you've  done  it,'  cried  Sally,  as  Mary 
scratched  like  a  mad  rat,  and  a  door  creaked  below, 
for  Miss  Cotton  was  not  deaf. 

"  Such  a  flurry  as  we  were  in  !  Out  went  the  can 
dle,  and  each  one  rushed  away  with  as  much  of  the 
feast  as  she  could  seize  in  her  haste.  Sally  dived 
into  her  bed,  recklessly  demolishing  the  last  pie,  and 
scattering  the  candy  far  and  wide. 

"  Poor  Mary  was  nearly  caught,  for  Miss  Cotton  was 
quicker  than  Betsey,  and  our  guard  had  to  run  for 
her  life. 

"  Our  room  was  the  first,  and  was  in  good  order, 
though  the  two  flushed  faces  on  the  pillows  were 
rather  suspicious.  Miss  Cotton  stood  staring  about 
her,  looking  so  funny,  without  her  cap,  that  my  bed 
fellow  would  have  gone  off  in  a  fit  of  laughter,  if  I 
had  not  pinched  her  warningly. 

"  4  Young  ladies,  what  is  this  unseemly  noise?' 

"  No  answer  from  us  but  a  faint  snore.  Miss  Cotton 
marched  into  the  next  room,  put  the  same  question, 
and  received  the  same  reply. 

"  In  the  third  chamber  lay  Sally,  and  we  trembled 
as  the  old  lady  went  in.  Sitting  up,  we  peeped  and 
listened  breathlessly. 

"  '  Sarah,  I  command  you  to  tell  me  what  this  aJI 
means  ? ' 


Grandma.  105 

"  But  Sally  only  sighed  in  her  sleep,  and  mattered, 
wickedly,  c  Ma,  take  me  home.  I  'm  starved  at  Cot 
ton's.' 

" '  Mercy  on  me !  is  the  child  going  to  have  a 
fever?'  cried  the  old  lady,  who  did  not  observe  the 
telltale  nuts  at  her  feet. 

u  k  So  dull,  so  strict !  O  take  me  home  ! '  moaned 
Sally,  tossing  her  arms  and  gurgling,  like  a  naughty 
little  gypsy. 

"  That  last  bit  of  acting  upset  the  whole  concern, 
for  as  she  tossed  her  arms  she  showed  the  big  red 
cushion  on  her  breast.  Near-sighted  as  she  was,  that 
ridiculous  object  could  not  escape  Miss  Cotton, 
neither  did  the  orange  that  rolled  out  from  the 
pillow,  nor  the  boots  appearing  at  the  foot  of  the 
bed. 

"  With  sudden  energy  the  old  lady  plucked  off  the 
cover,  and  there  lay  Sally  with  her  hair  dressed  a  la 
Tops/,  her  absurd  breast-pin  and  her  dusty  boots, 
among  papers  of  candy,  bits  of  pie  and  cake,  oranges 
and  apples,  and  a  candle  upside  down  burning  a  hole 
in  the  sheet. 

"  At  the  sound  of  Miss  Cotton's  horrified  excla 
mation  Sally  woke*  up,  and  began  laughing  so 
merrily  that  none  of  us  could  resist  following  her 
example,  and  the  rooms  rang  with  merriment  for 
many  minutes.  I  really  don't  know  when  we  should 
have  stopped  if  Sally  had  not  got  choked  with  the 
nut  she  had  in  her  mouth,  and  so  frightened  us  neurly 
out  of  our  wits." 

u  What  became  of  the  things,  and  how  were  you 
punished?"  asked  Fun,  in  the  middle  of  her  laughter 


ro6  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

"  The  remains  of  the  feast  went  to  the  pig,  and  we 
were  kept  on  bread  and  water  for  three  days." 

"  Did  that  cure  you  ?  " 

"Oh, dear, no!  we  had  half  a  dozen  other  frolics 
that  very  summer ;  and  although  I  cannot  help 
laughing  at  the  remembrance  of  this,  you  must  not 
think,  child,  that  I  approve  of  such  conduct,  or  ex 
cuse  it.  No,  no,  my  dear,  far  from  it." 

"  I  call  that  a  tip-top  story  !  Drive  on,  grandma, 
and  tell  one  about  boys,"  broke  in  a  new  voice,  and 
there  was  Tom  astride  of  a  chair,  listening  and  laugh 
ing  with  all  his  might,  for  his  book  had  come  to  an 
end,  and  he  had  joined  the  party  unobserved. 

"  Wait  for  your  turn,  Tommy.  Now,  Polly,  dear, 
what  will  you  have  ?  "  said  grandma,  looking  so  lively 
and  happy,  that  it  was  very  evident  "  reminiscing " 
did  her  good. 

"  Let  mine  come  last,  and  tell  one  for  Tom  next," 
said  Polly,  looking  round,  and  beckoning  him  nearer. 

He  came  and  sat  himself  cross-legged  on  the  floor, 
before  the  lower  drawer  of  the  cabinet,  which  grandma 
opened  for  him,  saying,  with  a  benign  stroke  of  the 
curly  head,  — 

"There,  dear,  that's  where  I  keep  the  little  memo 
rials  of.  my  brother  Jack.  Poor  lad,  he  was  lost  at 
sea,  you  know.  Well,  choose  anything  you  like,  and 
I  '11  try  to  remember  a  story  about  it." 

Tom  made  a  rapid  rummage,  and  fished  up  a  little 
broken  pistol. 

u  There,  that 's  the  chap  for  me  !  Wish  it  was  n't 
spoilt,  then  we  'd  have  fun  popping  away  at  the  cats 
iu  the  yard.  Now,  then,  grandma  " 


Grattdma.  107 

u  I  remember  one  of  Jack's  pranks,  when  that  was 
used  with  great  effect,"  said  grandma,  after  a  thought 
ful  pause,  during  which  Tom  teased  the  girls  by 
snapping  the  lock  of  the  pistol  in  their  faces. 

"  Once  .upon  a  time,"  continued  Madam,  much  flat 
tered  by  the  row  of  interested  faces  before  her,  "  my 
father  went  away  on  business,  leaving  mother,  aunt, 
and  us  girls  to  Jack's  care.  Very  proud  he  was,  to 
be  sure,  of  the  responsibility,  and  the  first  thing  he 
did  was  to  load  that  pistol  and  keep  it  by  his  bed,  to 
our  great  worriment,  for  we  feared  he  'd  kill  himseK 
with  it.  For  a  week  all  went  well ;  then  we  were  star 
tled  by  the  news  that  robbers  were  about.  All  sorts 
of  stories  flew  through  the  town  (we  were  living  in 
the  country  then)  ;  some  said  that  certain  houses  were 
marked  with  a  black  cross,  and  those  were  always 
robbed ;  others,  that  there  was  a  boy  in  the  gang,  for 
windows,  so  small  that  they  were  considered  safe, 
were  entered  by  some  little  rogue.  At  one  place  the 
thieves  had  a  supper,  and  left  ham  and  cake  in  the 
front  yard.  Mrs.  Jones  found  Mrs.  Smith's  shawl  in 
her  orchard,  with  a  hammer  and  an  unknown  teapot 
near  it.  One  man  reported  that  some  one  tapped  at 
his  window,  in  the  night,  saying,  softly,  '  Is  any  one 
here  ? '  and  when  he  looked  out,  two  men  were  seen  to 
run  down  the  road. 

"  We  lived  just  out  of  town,  in  a  lonely  place  ;  the 
house  was  old,  with  convenient  little  back  windows, 
and  five  outside  doors.  Jack  was  the  only  man 
about  the  place,  and  he  was  barely  thirteen.  Mother 
and  aunt  were  very  timid,  and  the  children  were  n't 
old  enough  to  be  of  any  use,  so  Jack  and  I  were  the 
home-guard,  and  vowed  to  defend  the  family  manfully." 


io8  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

"  Good  for  you  !      Hope  the  fellows  came  !  " 
Tom,  charmed  with  this  opening. 

"  One  day,  an  ill-looking  man  came  in  and 
for  food,"  continued  grandma,  with  a  mysterious  nod 
and  while  he  ate,  I  saw  him  glance  sharply  about 
from  the  wooden  buttons  on  the  back-doors,  to  tlw 
silver  urn  and  tankards  on  the  dining-room  side 
board.  A  strong  suspicion  took  possession  of  me. 
and  I  watched  him  as  a  cat  does  a  mouse. 

"  4  He  came  to  examine  the  premises,  I  'm  sure  ol 
it,  but  we  will  be  ready  for  him,'  I  said,  fiercely,  as 
I  told  the  family  about  him. 

"  This  fancy  haunted  us  all,  and  our  preparations 
were  very  funny.  Mother  borrowed  a  rattle,  and 
kept  it  under  her  pillow.  Aunt  took  a  big  bell  to 
bed  with  her  ;  the  children  had  little  Tip,  the  terrier, 
to  sleep  in  their  room ;  while  Jack  and  I  mounted 
guard,  he  with  the  pistol,  and  I  with  a  hatchet,  for  I 
didn't  like  fire-arms.  Biddy,  who  slept  in  the  attic, 
practised  getting  out  on  the  shed  roof,  so  that  she 
might  run  away  at  the  first  alarm.  Every  night  we 
arranged  pit-falls  for  the  robbers,  and  all  filed  up  to 
bed,  bearing  plate,  money,  weapons  and  things  to  bar 
ricade  with,  as  if  we  lived  in  war  times. 

"  We  waited  a  week  and  no  one  came,  so  we  began 
to  feel  rather  slighted,  for  other  people  got  4  a  scare,5 
as  Tom  says,  and  after  all  our  preparations  we  really 
felt  a  trifle  disappointed  that  we  had  had  no  chance  10 
show  our  courage.  At  last  a  black  mark  was  found 
upon  our  door,  and  a  great  panic  ensued,  for  we  felt 
that  now  our  time  had  come. 

"  That  night  we  put  a  tub  of  water  at  the  bottom  of 
the  back-stairs,  and  a  pile  of  tin  pans  at  the  top  of  the 


Grandma.  109 

front  stairs,  so  that  any  attempt  to  come  up  would 
produce  a  splash  or  a  rattle.  Bells  were  hung  on 
door  handles,  sticks  of  wood  piled  up  in  dark  corners 
for  robbers  to  fall  over,  and  the  family  retired,  all 
armed  and  all  provided  with  lamps  and  matches. 

"  Jack  and  I  left  our  doors  open,  and  kept  asking 
one  another  if  we  did  n't  hear  something,  till  he  fell 
asleep.  I  was  wakeful  and  lay  listening  to  the  crickets 
till  the  clock  struck  twelve ;  then  I  got  drowsy,  and 
was  just  dropping  off  when  the  sound  of  steps  outside 
woke  me  up  staring  wide  awake.  Creeping  to  the 
window  I  was  in  time  to  see  by  the  dim  moonlight  a 
shadow  glide  round  the  corner  and  disappear.  A 
queer  little  thrill  went  over  me,  but  I  resolved  to  keep 
quiet  till  I  was  sure  something  was  wrong,  for  I  had 
given  so  many  false  alarms,  I  did  n't  want  Jack  to 
laugh  at  me  again.  Popping  my  head  out  of  the  door 
I  listened,  and  presently  heard  a  scraping  sound  near 
the  shed. 

"  '  There  they  are  ;  but  I  won't  rouse  the  house  till 
the  bell  rings  or  the  pans  fall.  The  rogues  can't  go 
far  without  a  clatter  of  some  sort,  and  if  we  could 
only  catch  one  of  them  we  should  get  the  reward  and 
a  deal  of  glory/  I  said  to  myself,  grasping  my 
hatchet  firmly. 

"  A  door  closed  softly  below,  and  a  step  came  creep 
ing  towards  the  back-stairs.  Sure  now  of  my  prey,  ] 
was  just  about  to  scream  '  Jack !  *  when  something 
went  splash  into  the  tub  at  the  foot  of  the  back 
stairs. 

"  In  a  minute  every  one  was  awake  and  up,  for  Jack 
fired  his  pistol  before  he  was  half  out  of  bed,  and 


no  An   Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

roared  l  Fire  ! '  so  loud  it  roused  the  house.  Mother 
sprung  her  rattle,  aunt  rang  her  bell,  Jip  barked  like 
mad,  and  we  all  screamed,  while  from  below  came  up 
a  regular  Irish  howl. 

"  Some  one  brought  a  lamp,  and  we  peeped  anx 
iously  down,  to  see  our  own  stupid  Biddy  sitting  ID 
the  tub  wringing  her  hands  and  wailing  dismally. 

"  '  Och,  murther,  and  it's  kilt  I  am  !  The  saints  be 
about  us !  how  iver  did  I  come  forninst  this  say  iv 
wather,  just  crap  in  in  quiet  afther  a  bit'iv  sthroli  wid 
Blike  Mahoney,  me  own  b'y,  that 's  to  marry  me  in- 
Cirely,  come  Saint  Patrick's  day  nixt.' 

•4  We  laughed  so  we  could  hardly  fish  the  poor  thing 
ap,  or  listen  while  she  explained  that  she  had  slipped 
our  of  ner  window  for  a  word  with  Mike,  and  found  it 
fastened  when  she  wanted  to  come  back,  so  she  had 
sat  on  the  rooi,  trying  to  discover  the  cause  of  this 
mysterious  Darring  out,  till  she  was  tired,  when  she 
prowled  round  tne  house  till  she  found  a  cellar  win 
dow  unfastened,  after  ail  our  care,  and  got  in  quite 
cleverly,  she  thought ;  but  the  tub  was  a  new  arrange 
ment  which  she  knew  nothing  about ;  and  when  she 
fell  into  the  4  say,'  she  was  bewildered  and  could 
only  howl. 

"  This  was  not  all  the  damage  either,  for  aunt  fainted 
with  the  fright,  mother  cut  her  hand  with  a  broken 
lamp,  the  children  took  cold  hopping  about  on  the  wet 
stairs,  Jip  barked  himself  sick,  1  sprained  my  ankle, 
and  Jack  not  only  smashed  a  looKicg-glass  with  his 
bullets,  but  spoilt  his  pistol  by  the  heavy  charge  put 
in  it.  After  the  damages  were  repaired  and  the  flurry 
was  well  over,  Jack  confessed  that  he  had  marked  the 


Grandma.  1 1 1 

door  for  fun,  and  shut  Biddy  out  as  a  punishment  for 
1  gallivanting,'  of  which  he  did  n't  approve.  Such  a 
rogue  as  that  boy  was  ! " 

44  But  did  n't  the  robbers  ever  come?"  cried  Tom, 
enjoying  the  joke,  but  feeling  defrauded  of  the  fight. 

"  Never,  my  dear ;  but  we  had  our  '  scare,'  and 
tested  our  courage,  and  that  was  a  great  satisfaction 
of  course,"  answered  grandma,  placidly. 

"  Well,  I  think  you  were  the  bravest  of  the  lot. 
I  'd  like  to  have  seen  you  flourishing  round  there  with 
your  hatchet,"  added  Tom,  admiringly,  and  the  old 
lady  looked  as  much  pleased  with  the  compliment  as 
if  she  had  been  a  girl. 

"  I  choose  this,"  said  Polly,  holding  up  a  long  white 
kid  glove,  shrunken  and  yellow  with  time,  but  look 
ing  as  if  it  had  a  history. 

"  Ah,  that  now  has  a  story  worth  telling ! "  cried 
grandma ;  adding,  proudly,  "  Treat  that  old  glove 
respectfully,  my  children,  for  Lafayette's  honored 
hand  has  touched  it." 

"  Oh,  grandma,  did  you  wear  it  ?  Did  you  see  him  ? 
Do  tell  us  all  about  it,  and  that  will  be  the  best  of  the 
whole,"  cried  Polly,  who  loved  history,  and  knew  a 
good  deal  about  the  gallant  Frenchman  and  his  brave 
life. 

Grandma  loved  to  tell  this  story,  and  always  as- 
/sximed  her4  most  imposing  air  to  do  honor  to  her 
theme.  Drawing  herself  up,  therefore,  she  folded  her 
hands,  and  after  two  or  three  little  "  hems,"  began 
\nth  an  absent  look,  as  if  her  eyes  beheld  a  far-away 
time,  which  brightened  as  she  gazed. 

"  The  first  visit  of  Lafayette  was  before  my  time, 


£12  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

of  course,  but  I  heard  so  much  about  it  from  my 
grandfather  that  I  really  felt  as  if  I  'd  seen  it  all. 
Our  Aunt  Hancock  lived  in  the  Governor's  house, 
on  Beacon  Hill,  at  that  time."  Here  the  old  lady 
bridled  up  still  more,  for  she  was  very  proud  of  u  our 
aunt."  "  Ah,  my  dears,  those  were  the  good  old 
times  !  "  she  continued,  with  a  sigh.  "  Such  dinners 
and  tea  parties,  such  damask  table  cloths  and  fine 
plate,  such  solid,  handsome  furniture  and  elegant  car 
riages  ;  aunt's  was  lined  with  red  silk  velvet,  and 
when  the  coach  was  taken  away  from  her  at  the  Gov- 
e*rnor's  death,  she  just  ripped  out  the  lining,  and  we 
girls  had  spencers  made  of  it.  Dear  heart,  how  well 
I  remember  playing  in  aunt's  great  garden,  and  chas 
ing  Jack  up  and  down  those  winding  stairs  ;  and  my 
blessed  father,  in  his  plum-colored  coat  and  knee 
buckles,  and  the  queue  I  used  to  tie  up  for  him  every 
day,  handing  aunt  in  to  dinner,  looking  so  digniued 
and  splendid." 

Grandma  seemed  to.  forget  her  story  for  a  minute, 
and  become  a  little  girl  again,  among  the  playmates 
dead  and  gone  so  many  years.  Polly  motioned  the 
others  to  be  quiet,  and  no  one  spoke  till  the  old  lady, 
frith  a  long  sigh,  came  back  to  the  present,  and  went 
on. 

"  Well,  as  I  was  saying,  the  Governor  wanted  to 
give  a  breakfast  to  the  French  officers,  and  Madam, 
who  was  a  hospitable  soul,  got  up  a  splendid  one  for 
them.  But  by  some  mistake,  or  accident,  it  was  dis 
covered  at  the  last  minute  that  there  was  no  milk. 

"  A  great  deal  was  needed,  and  very  little  could  be 
bought  or  borrowed,  so  despair  fell  upon  the  cooka 


Grandma.  113 

and  maids,  and  the  great  breakfast  would  have  been 
a  failure,  if  Madam,  with  the  presence  of  mind  of  her 
sex,  had  not  suddenly  bethought  herself  of  the  cows 
feeding  on  the  Common. 

"  To  be  sure,  they  belonged  to  her  neighbors,  and 
there  was  no  time*  to  ask  leave,  but  it  was  a  national 
affair ;  our  allies  must  be  fed ;  and  feeling  sure  that 
her  patriotic  friends  would  gladly  lay  their  cows  on 
the  altar  of  their  country,  Madam  Hancock  covered 
herself  with  glory,  by  calmly  issuing  the  command, 
4  Milk  'em  ! ' 

"  It  was  done,  to  the  great  astonishment  of  the 
cows,  and  the  entire  satisfaction  of  the  guests,  among 
whom  was  Lafayette. 

44  This  milking  feat  was  such  a  gpod  joke,  that  no 
one  seems  to  have  remembered  much  about  the  great 
man,  though  one  of  his  officers,  a  count,  signalized 
himself  by  getting  very  tipsy,  and  going  to  bed 
with  his  boots  and  spurs  on,  —  which  caused,  the 
destruction  of  aunt's  best  yellow  damask  coverlet, 
for  the  restless  sleeper  kicked  it  into  rags  by  morn- 
Ing. 

44  Aunt  valued  it  very  much,  even  in  its  tattered 
condition,  and  kept  it  a  long  while,  as  a  memorial  of 
her  distinguished  guests. 

44  The  time  when  /  saw  Lafayette  was  in  1825,  and 
there  were  no  tipsy  counts  then.  Uncle  Hancock  (a 
sweet  man,  my  dears,  though  some  call  him  mean 
now-a-days)  was  dead,  and  aunt  had  married  Cap 
tain  Scott. 

44  It  was  not  at  all  the  thing  for  her  to  do  ;  however, 
that's  neither  here  nor  there.     She  was  living  in  Fed- 
8 


H4  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

eral  Street  at  the  time,  a  most  aristocratic  street 
then,  children,  and  we  lived  close  by. 

"  Old  Josiah  Quincy  was  rc^or  of  the  city,  and  he 
sent  aunt  word  that  the  Marquis  Lafayette  wished  to 
pay  his  respects  to  her. 

u  Of  course  she  was  delighted,  and  we  all  flew  about 
to  make  ready  for  him.  Aunt  was  an  old  lady,  but 
she  made  a  grand  toilet  ,  and  was  as  anxious  to  look 
well  as  any  girl." 

"  What  did  she  wear?"  asked  Fan,  with  interest. 

"  She  wore  a  steel-colored  satin,  trimmed  with  black 
lace,  and  on  her  cap  was  pinned  a  Lafayette  badge 
of  white  satin. 

"  I  never  shall  forget  how  b-e-a-utifully  she  looked 
as  she  sat  in  state  on  the  front  parlor  sophy,  right 
under  a  great  portrait  of  her  first  husband  ;  and  on 
either  side  of  her  sat  Madam  Storer  and  Madam 
Williams,  elegant  to  behold,  in  their  stiff  silks,  rich 
lace,  and  stately  turbans.  We  don't  see  such  splen 
did  old  ladies  now-a-days  "  — 

"  I  think  we  do  sometimes,"  said  Polly,  slyly. 

Grandma  shook  her  head,  but  it  pleased  her  very 
much  to  be  admired,  for  she  had  been  a  beauty  in  hei 


"  We  girls  had  dressed  the  house  with  flowers  ;  old 
Mr.  Coolidge  sent  in  a  clothes-basket  full.  Joe  Joy 
provided  the  badges,  and  aunt  got  out  some  of  the 
Revolutionary  wine  from  the  old  Beacon  street  cel 
lar. 

"  I  wore  my  green  and  white  palnryrine,  my  hair 
bowed  high,  the  beautiful  leg-o'-mutton  sleeves  that 
were  so  becoming,  and  these  very  gloves. 


Grandma.  1 1 5 

"Well,  by-and-by  the  General,  escorted  by  the 
Mayor,  drove  up.  Dear  me,  I  see  him  now !  —  a  lit 
tle  old  man  in  nankeen  trousers  and  vest,  a  long  blue 
coat  and  ruffled  shirt,  leaning  on  his  cane,  for  he  was 
lame,  and  smiling  and  bowing  like  a  true  Frenchman. 

"  As  he  approached,  the  three  old  ladies  rose,  and 
courtesied  with  the  utmost  dignity.  Lafayette  bowed 
first  to  the  Governor's  picture,  then  to  the  Governor's 
widow,  and  kissed  her  hand. 

"  That  was  droll ;  for  on  the  back  of  her  glove  was 
stamped  Lafayette's  likeness,  and  tjie  gallant  old 
gentleman  kissed  his  own  face. 

"  Then  some  of  the  young  ladies  were  presented  ; 
and,  as  if  to  escape  any  further  self-salutations,  the 
marquis  kissed  the  pretty  girls  on  the  cheek. 

"  Yes,  my  dears,  here  is  just  tha  spot  where  the  dear 
old  man  saluted  me.  I  'm  quite  as  proud  of  it  now  as 
I  was  then,  for  he  was  a  brave,  good  man,  and  helped 
us  in  our  trouble. 

"  He  did  not  stay  long,  but  we  were  very  merry, 
drinking  his  health,  receiving  his  compliments,  and 
enjoying  the  honor  he  did  us. 

u  Down  in  the  street  there  was  a  crowd,  of  course, 
and  when  he  left  they  wanted  to  take  out  the  horses 
and  drag  him  home  in  triumph.  But  he  did  n't  wish 
it ;  and  while  that  affair  was  being  arranged,  we  girls 
had  been  pelting  him  with  the  flowers  which  we  tore 
from  the  vases,  the  walls,  and  our  own  topknots,  to 
scatter  over  him. 

"  He  liked  that,  and  laughed,  and  waved  his  hand  to 
us,  while  we  ran,  and  pelted,  and  begged  him  to  come 
again. 


n6  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

"  We  young  folks  quite  lost  our  heads  that  night, 
and  I  have  n't  a  very  clear  idea  of  how  I  got  home. 
The  last  thing  I  remember  was  hanging  out  of  the  win 
dow  with  a  flock  of  girls,  watching  the  carriage  roll 
away,  while  the  crowd  cheered  as  if  they  were  mad. 

"  Bless  my  heart,  it  seems  as  if  I  heard  'em  now ! 
*  Hurrah  for  Lafayette  and  Mayor  Quincy !  Hurrah 
for  Madam  Hancock  and  the  pretty  girls !  Hurrah 
for  Col.  May  ! '  '  Three  cheers  for  Boston  !  Now, 
then  !  Hurrah  !  Hurrah  !  Hurrah  ! ' " 

And  here  the  old  lady  stopped,  out  of  breath,  with 
her  cap  askew,  her  spectacles  on  the  end  of  her  nose, 
and  her -knitting  much  the  worse  for  being  waved  en 
thusiastically  in  the  air,  while  she  hung  over  the  arm 
of  her  chair,  shrilly  cheering  an  imaginary  Lafayette. 

The  girls  clapped  their  hands,  and  Tom  hurrahed 
with  all  his  might,  saying,  when  he  got  his  breath, 

"  Lafayette  was  a  regular  old  trump ;  I  always 
liked  him." 

"  My  dear !  what  a  disrespectful  way  to  speak  of 
that  great  man,"  said  grandma,  shocked  at  Young 
America's  irreverence. 

"  Well,  he  was  a  trump,  any  way,  so  why  not  call 
him  one  ?  "  asked  Tom,  feeling  that  the  objectionable 
word  was  all  that  could  be  desired. 

"  What  queer  gloves  you  wore  then,"  interrupted 
Fann}^,  who  had  been  trying  on  the  much-honored 
glove,  and  finding  it  a  tight  fit. 

"  Much  better  and  cheaper  than  we  have  now," 
returned  grandma,  ready  to  defend  "  the  good  old 
times  "  against  every  insinuation.  "  You  are  an  ex 
travagant  set  now-a-days,  and  I  really  don't  know 


Gr&ndma.  1 1 7 

what  you  are  coming  to.  By  the  way,  I've  got 
somewhere  two  letters  written  by  two  young  ladies, 
one  in  1517,  and  the  other  in  1868.  The  contrast 
between  the  two  will  amuse  3rou,  I  think." 

After  a  little  search,  grandma  produced  an  old 
portfolio,  and  selecting  the  papers,  read  the  following 
letter,  written  by  Anne  Boleyn  before  her  marriage  to 
Henry  VIII.,  and  now  in  the  possession  of  a  celebra 
ted  antiquarian :  — 

DEAR  MARY  : 

I  have  been  in  town  almost  a  month,  jret  I  cannot 
say  I  have  found  anything  in  London  extremely 
agreeable.  We  rise  so  late  in  the  morning,  —  seldom 
before  six  o'clock,  —  and  sit  up  so  late  at  night,  — 
being  scarcely  in  bed  before  ten,  —  that  I  am  quite 
sick  of  it ;  and  was  it  not  for  the  abundance  of  fine 
things  I  am  every  day  getting,  I  should  be  impatient 
of  returning  into  the  country. 

My  indulgent  mother  bought  me,  3'esterday,  at  a 
merchant's  in  Cheapside,  three  new  shifts,  that  cost 
fourteen  pence  an  ell,  and  I  am  to  have  a  pair  of  new 
stuff  shoes,  for  m}'  Lord  of  Norfolk's  ball,  which  will 
be  three  shillings. 

The  irregular  life  I  have  led  since  my  coming  to 
this  place  has  quite  destroyed  my  appetite.  You 
know  I  could  manage  a  pound  of  bacon  and  a  tankard 
of  good  ale  for  my  breakfast,  in  the  county,  but  in 
London  I  find  it  difficult  to  get  through  half  the  quan 
tity,  though  I  must  own  I  am  generally  eager  enough 
for  the  dinner  hour,  which  is  here  delayed  till  twelve, 
In  your  polite  society. 


n8  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

I  played  at  hot  cockles,  last  night,  at  my  Lord  of 
Leicester's.  The  Lord  of  Surrey  was  there,  a  very 
elegant  young  man,  who  sung  a  song  of  his  own  com 
position,  on  the  "  Lord  of  Kildare's  Daughter."  It 
was  much  approved,  and  my  brother  whispered  me 
that  the  fair  Geraldine,  for  so  my  Lord  of  Surrey  calls 
his  sweetheart,  is  the  finest  woman  of  the  age.  I 
should  be  glad  to  see  her,  for  I  hear  she  is  good  as 
she  is  beautiful. 

Pray  take  care  of  the  poultry  during  my  absence. 
Poor  things  !  I  always  fed  them  myself ;  and  if  Mar 
gery  has  knitted  me  the  crimson  worsted  mittens,  I 
should  be  glad  if  they  were  sent  up  the  first  oppor 
tunity. 

Adieu,  dear  Mary.  I  am  just  going  to  mass,  and 
you  shall  speedily  have  the  prayers,  as  you  have  now 
the  kindest  love  of  your  own 

ANNE  BOLEYN. 

"  Up  before  six,  and  think  it  late  to  go  to  bed  at 
ten  !  What  a  countrified  thing  Anne  must  have  been. 
Bacon  and  ale  for  breakfast,  and  dinner  at  twelve ; 
how  very  queer  to  live  so !  "  cried  Fanny.  "  Lord 
Surrey  .and  Lord  Leicester  sound  fine,  but  hot 
cockles,  and  red  mittens,  and  shoes  for  three  shil 
lings,  are  horrid." 

"  I  like  it,"  said  Polly,  thoughtfully,  "  and  I  'm  glad 
poor  Anne  had  a  little  fun  before  her  troubles  began. 
May  I  copy  that  letter  some  time,  grandma?" 

"  Yes,  dear,  and  welcome.  Now,  here's  the  other, 
by  a  modern  girl  on  her  first  visit  to  London.  This 
will  suit  you  better,  Fan,"  and  grandma  read  what  a 


Grandma.  119 

friend  had  sent  her  as  a  pendent  to  Anne's  little  pic 
ture  of  London  life  long  ago :  — 

MY  DEAREST  CONSTANCE: 

After  three  months  of  intense  excitement  I  snatch 
a  leisure  moment  to  tell  you  how  much  I  enjoy  my 
first  visit  to  London.  Having  been  educated  abroad, 
it  really  seems  like  coming  to  a  strange  city.  At 
first  the  smoke,  dirt  and  noise  were  very  disagreeable, 
but  I  soon  got  used  to  these  things,  and  now  find  all  I 
see  perfectly  charming. 

We  plunged  at  once  into  a  whirl  of  gayety,  and  I 
have  had  no  time  to  think  of  anything  but  pleasure. 
It  is  the  height  of  the  season,  and  every  hour  is  en 
gaged  either  in  going  to  balls,  concerts,  theatres,  fStes 
and  church,  or  in  preparing  for  them.  We  often  go 
to  two  or  three  parties  in  an  evening,  and  seldom  get 
home  till  morning,  so  of  course  we  don't  rise  till 
noon  next  day.  This  leaves  very  little  time  for  our 
drives,  shopping,  and  calls  before  dinner  at  eight,  and 
then  the  evening  gayeties  begin  again. 

At  a  ball  at  Lady  Russell's  last  night,  I  saw  the 
Prince  of  Wales,  and  danced  in  the  set  with  him.  He 
is  growing  stout,  and  looks  dissipated.  I  was  disap~ 
pointed  in  him,  for  neither  in  appearance  nor  con 
versation  was  he  at  all  princely.  I  was  introduced 
to  a  very  brilliant  and  delightful  young  gentleman 
from  America.  I  was  charmed  with  him,  and  rather 
surprised  to  learn  that  he  wrote  the  poems  which 
were  so  much  admired  last  season,  also  that  he  is 
the  son  of  a  rich  tailor.  How  odd  these  Ameri 
cans  are,  with  their  money,  and  talent,  and  inde 
pendence  I 


I2O  An  Old- Fashioned  Girl. 

0  my  dear,  I  must  not  forget  to  tell  you  the  great 
event  of  my  first  season.     I  am  to  be  presented  at 
the  next  Drawing    Room !     Think  how  absorbed   I 
must  be  in  preparation  for  this  grand  affair.     Mamma 
is  resolved  that  I  shall  do  her  credit,  and  we  have 
spent  the  last  two  weeks  driving  about  from  milliners 
to  mantua-makers,  from  merchants  to  jewellers.     I 
am  to  wear  white  satin  and  plumes,  pearls  and  roses. 
My  dress  will  cost  a  hundred  pounds  or  more,  and  is 
very  elegant. 

My  cousins  and  friends  lavish  lovely  things  upon 
me,  and  you  will  open  your  unsophisticated  eyes  when 
I  display  my  silks  and  laces,  trinkets  and  French  hats, 
not  to  mention  billet  doux,  photographs,  and  other 
relics  of  a  young  belle's  first  season. 

You  ask  if  I  ever  think  of  home.  I  really  have  n't 
time,  but  I  do  sometimes  long  a  little  for  the  quiet,  the 
pure  air  and  the  girlish  amusements  I  used  to  enjoy 
so  much.  One  gets  pale,  and  old,  and  sadly  fagged 
out,  with  all  this  dissipation,  pleasant  as  it  is.  I  feel 
quite  blase  already. 

If  you  could  send  me  the  rosy  cheeks,  bright  eyes 
and  gay  spirits  I  always  had  at  home,  I  'd  thank  you. 
As  you  cannot  do  that,  please  send  me  a  bottle  of 
June  rain  water,  for  my  maid  tells  me  it  is  better  than 
any  cosmetic  for  the  complexion,  and  mine  is  getting 
ruined  by  late  hours. 

1  fancy  some  fruit  off  our  own  trees  would  suit  me, 
for  I  have  no  appetite,  and  mamma  is  quite  desolee 
about  me.     One  cannot  live  on  French  cookery  with 
out  dyspepsia,  and  one  can  get  nothing  simple  here, 
for  food,  like   everything  else,  is  regulated   by  the 
fashion. 


Grandma.  121 

Adieu,  ma  c/iere,  I  must  dress  for  church.  I  only 
wish  you  could  see  my  new  hat  and  go  with  me,  for 
Lord  Rockingham  promised  to  be  there. 

Adieu,  yours  eternally, 

FLORENCE." 

"  Yes,  J  do  like  that  better,  and  I  wish  I  had  been 
in  this  girl's  place,  don't  you,  Polly?"  said  Fan,  as 
grandma  took  off  her  glasses. 

u  I  should  love  to  go  to  London,  and  have  a  good 
time,  but  I  don't  think  I  should  care  about  spending 
ever  so  much  money,  or  going  to  Court.  Maybe  I 
might  when  I  got  there,  for  I  do  like  fun  and  splen 
dor,"  added  honest  Polly,  feeling  that  pleasure  was  a 
very  tempting  thing. 

"  Grandma  looks  tired;  let's  go  and  play  in  the 
dwying-woom,"  said  Maud,  who  found  the  conversa 
tion  getting  beyond  her  depth. 

41  Let  us  all  kiss  and  thank  grandma,  for  amusing 
us  so  nicely,  before  we  go,"  whispered  Polly.  Maud 
and  Fanny  agreed,  and  grandma  looked  so  gratified  by 
their  thanks,  that  Tom  followed  suit,  merely  waiting 
till  "  those  girls  "  were  out  of  sight,  to  give  the  old 
lady  a  hearty  hug,  and  a  kiss  on  the  very  cheek 
Lafayette  had  saluted. 

When  he  reached  the  play-room  Polly  was  sitting 
in  the  swing,  saying,  very  earnestly,  "  I  always  told 
you  it  was  nice  up  in  grandma's  room,  and  now  you 
see  it  is.  I  wish  you'd  go  oftener;  she  admires  to 
have  you,  and  likes  to  tell  stories  and  do  pleasant 
things,  only  she  thinks  you  don't  care  farther  quiet 
sort  of  fun.  /  do,  any  way,  and  /  think  she  's  the 


122  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

kindest,  best  old  lady  that  ever  lived,  and  I  love  her 
dearly!" 

"  I  did  n't  say  she  was  n't,  only  old  people  are  sort 
of  tedious  and  fussy,  so  I  keep  out  of  their  way,"  said 
Fanny. 

u  Well,  you  ought  not  to,  and  you  miss  lots  of 
pleasant  times.  My  mother  says  we  ought  to  be 
kind  and  patient  and  respectful  to  all  old  folks  just 
because  they  are  old,  and  I  always  mean  to  be." 

"  Your  mother 's  everlastingly  preaching,"  muttered 
Fan,  nettled  by  the  consciousness  of  her  own  short 
comings  with  regard  to  grandma. 

"  She  don't  preach ! "  cried  Polly,  firing  up  like  a 
flash  ;  "  she  only  explains  things  to  us,  and  helps  us 
be  good,  and  never  scolds,  and  I  'd  rather  have  her 
than  any  other  mother  in  the  world,  though  she  don't 
wear  velvet  cloaks  and  splendid  bonnets,  —  so  now  ! " 

"  Go  it,  Polly !  "  called  Tom,  who  was  gracefully 
hanging  head  downward  from  the  bar  put  up  for  his 
special  benefit. 

"  Polly 's  mad  !  Polly 's  mad  !  "  sung  Maud,  skip 
ping  rope  round  the  room. 

"  If  Mr.  Sydney  could  see  you  now  he  would  n't 
think  you  such  an  angel  any  more,"  added  Fanny, 
tossing  a  bean-bag  and  her  head  at  the  same  time. 

Polly  was  mad,  her  face  was  very  red,  her  eyes  very 
bright  and  her  lips  twitched,  but  she  held  her  tongue 
and  began  to  swing  as  hard  as  she  could,  fearing  to 
say  something  she  would  be  sorry  for  afterward. 
For  a  few  minutes  no  one  spoke,  Tom  whistled  and 
Maud  hummed,  but  Fan  and  Polly  were  each  soberly 
thinking  of  something,  for  they  had  reached  an  ago 


Grandma.  123 

when  children,  girls  especially,  begin  to  observe,  con 
trast,  and  speculate  upon  the  words,  acts,  manners, 
and  looks  of  those  about  them.  A  good  deal  of  think 
ing  goes  on  in  the  heads  of  these  shrewd  little  folks, 
and  the  elders  should  mind  their  ways,  for  they  get 
criticised  pretty  sharply  and  imitated  very  closely. 

Two  little  things  had  happened  that  day,  and  the 
influence  of  a  few  words,  a  careless  action,  was  still 
working  in  the  active  minds  of  the  girls. 

Mr.  Sydney  had  called,  and  while  Fanny  was  talk 
ing  with  him  she  saw  his  eye  rest  on  Polly,  who  sat 
apart  watching  the  faces  round  her  with  the  modest, 
intelligent  look  which  many  found  so  attractive.  At 
that  minute  Madam  Shaw  came  in.  and  stopped  to 
speak  to  the  little  girl.  Polly  rose  at  once,  and 
remained  standing  till  the  old  lady  passed  on. 

"  Are  you  laughing  at  Polly's  prim  ways?"  Fanny 
had  asked,  as  she  saw  Mr.  Sydney  smile. 

"  No,  I  am  admiring  Miss  Polly's  fine  manners," 
he  answered  in  a  grave,  respectful  tone,  which  had 
impressed  Fanny  very  much,  for  Mr.  Sydney  was 
considered  by  all  the  girls  as  a  model  of  good  breed 
ing,  and  that  indescribable  something  whioh  they  called 
tk  elegance." 

Fanny  wished  she  had  done  that  little  thing,  and 
won  that  approving  look,  for  she  valued  the  young 
man's  good  opinion,  because  it  was  so  hard  to  win, 
by  her  set  at  least.  So,  when  Polly  talked  about  old 
people,  it  recalled  this  scene  and  made  Fan  cross. 

Polly  was  remembering  how,  when  Mrs.  Shaw  came 
Qome  that  day  in  her  fine  visiting  costume,  and  Maud 
:an  to  welcome  iier  with  unusual  affection,  she  gatherer! 


124  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

up  her  lustrous  silk  and  pushed  the  little  girl  away, 
saying,  impatiently,  "Don't  touch  me,  child,  your 
hands  are  dirty."  Then  the  thought  had  come  to 
Polly  that  the  velvet  cloak  did  n't  cover  a  right 
motherly  heart,  that  the  fretful  face  under  the  nod 
ding  purple  plumes  was  not  a  tender  motherly  face, 
and  that  the  hands  in  the  delicate  primrose  gloves- 
had  put  away  something  very  sweet  and  precious. 
She  thought  of  another  woman,  whose  dress  never 
was  too  fine  for  little  wet  cheeks  to  lie  against,  or 
loving  little  arms  to  press ;  whose  face,  in  spite  of 
many  lines  and  the  gray  hairs  above  it,  was  never 
sour  or  unsympathetic  when  children's  eyes  turned 
towards  it ;  and  whose  hands  never  wore  too  busy,  too 
full  or  too  nice  to  welcome  and  serve  the  little  sons 
and  daughters  who  freely  brought  their  small  hopes 
and  fears,  sins  and  sorrows,  to  her,  who  dealt  out  jus 
tice  and  mercy  with  such  wise  love.  "  Ah,  that 's  a 
mother !  "  thought  Polly,  as  the  memory  came  warm 
into  her  heart,  making  her  feel  very  rich,  and  pity 
Maud  for  being  so  poor. 

This  it  was  that  caused  such  sudden  indignation  at 
Fanny's  dreadful  speech,  and  this  it  was  that  made 
quick-tempered  Polly  try  to  calm  her  wrath  before 
she  used  toward  Fanny's  mother  the  disrespectful 
tone  she  so  resented  toward  her  own.  As  the  swing 
came  down  after  some  dozen  quick  journeys  to  and 
fro,  Polly  seemed  to  have  found  a  smile  somewhere 
up  aloft,  for  she  looked  toward  Fan,  saying  pleasantly, 
as  she  paused  a  little  in  her  airy  exercise,  "  I  'm  not 
mad  now,  shall  I  come  and  toss  with  you  ?  " 

"No,  I'll   come   and   swing  with   you,"  answered 


Grandma.  125 

Fanny,  quick  to  feel  the  generous  spirit  of  her  friend. 
'*  You  are  an  angel,  and  I  '11  never  be  so  rude  again," 
she  added,  as  Polly's  arm  came  round  her,  and  half 
the  seat  was  gladly  offered. 

"  No,  I  ain't ;  but  if  I  ever  get  at  all  like  one,  it 
will  be  '  mother's  preaching  *  that  did  it,"  said  Polly, 
with  a  happ}'  laugh. 

"  Good  for  you,  Polly  Peacemaker, "  cried  Tom, 
quoting  his  father,  and  giving  them  a  grand  push  as 
the  most  appropriate  way  of  expressing  his  approba 
tion  of  the  sentiment. 

Nothing  more  was  said ;  but  from  that  day  there 
slowly  crept  into  the  family  more  respect  for  grandma, 
more  forbearance  with  her  infirmities,  more  interest  in 
her  little  stories,  and  many  a  pleasant  gossip  did  the 
dear  old  lady  enjoy  with  the  children  as  they  gathered 
round  her  fire,  solitary  so  long. 


CHAPTER    VJL 

GOOD-BY. 

,  dear !  Must  you  really  go  home  Saturday?" 
said  Fan,  some  days  after  what  Tom  called  the 
"  grand  scrimmage." 

"  I  really  must ;  for  I  only  came  to  stay  a  month, 
and  here  I  've  been  nearly  six  weeks,"  answered  Polly, 
feeling  as  if  she  had  been  absent  a  year. 

"Make  it  two  months,  and  stay  over  Christmas. 
Come,  do,  now,"  urged  Tom,  heartily. 

"  You  are  very  kind  ;  but  I  would  n't  miss  Christ 
mas  at  home  for  anything.  Besides,  mother  says 
they  can't  possibly  do  without  me." 

"  Neither  can  we.  Can't  you  tease  your  mother, 
and  make  up  your  mind  to  stay  ?  "  began  Fan. 

"  Polly  never  teases.  She  says  it's  selfish  ;  and  I 
don't  do  it  now  much,"  put  in  Maud,  with  a  virtuous 
air. 

"  Don't  you  bother  Polly.  She  'd  rather  go,  and  I 
don't  wonder.  Let 's  be  just  as  jolly  as  we  can  while 
she  stays,  and  finish  up  with  your  party,  Fan,"  said 
Tom,  in  a  tone  that  settled  the  matter. 

Polly  had  expected  to  be  very  happy  in  getting 
ready  for  the  party ;  but  when  the  time  came,  she 


Good-by.  127 

was  disappointed ;  for  somehow  that  naughty  thing 
called  envy  took  possession  of  her,  and  spoiled  her 
pleasure.  Before  she  left  home,  she  thought  her  new 
white  muslin  dress,  with  its  fresh  blue  ribbons,  the 
most  elegant  and  proper  costume  she  could  have  ;  but 
i,ow,  when  she  saw  Fanny's  pink  silk,  with  a  white 
tarlatan  tunic,  and  innumerable  puffings,  bows,  and 
streamers,  her  own  simple  little  toilet  lost  all  its 
charms  in  her  eyes,  and  looked  very  babyish  and  old- 
fashioned. 

Even  Maud  was  much  better  dressed  than  herself, 
and  looked  very  splendid  in  her  cherry-colored  and 
white  suit,  with  a  sash  so  big  she  could  hardly 
carry  it,  and  little  white  boots  with  red  buttons. 
They  both  had  necklaces  and  bracelets,  ear-rings  and 
brooches ;  but  Polly  had  no  ornament,  except  the 
plain  locket  on  a  bit  of  blue  velvet.  Her  sash  was 
only  a  wide  ribbon,  tied  in  a  simple  bow,  and  nothing 
but  a  blue  snood  in  the  pretty  curls.  Her  only  com 
fort  was  the  knowledge  that  the  modest  tucker  drawn 
up  round  the  plump  shoulders  was  real  lace,  and  that 
her  bronze  boots  cost  nine  dollars. 

Poor  Polly,  with  all  her  efforts  to  be  contented,  and 
not  to  mind  looking  unlike  other  people,  found  it  hard 
work  to  keep  her  face  bright  and  her  voice  happy  that 
night.  No  one  dreamed  what  was  going  on  under 
the  muslin  frock,  till  grandma's  wise  old  eyes  spied 
out  the  little  shadow  on  Polly's  spirits,  and  guessed 
the  cause  of  it.  When  dressed,  the  three  girls  went 
up  to  show  themselves  to  the  elders,  who  were  in 
grandma's  room,  where  Tom  was  being  helped  into 
an  agonizingly  stiff  collar. 

Maud  pranced  like  a  small  peacock,  and  Fan  made 


128  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

a  splendid  courtesy  as  every  one  turned  to  survey 
them  ;  but  Polly  stood  still,  and  her  eyes  went  from 
face  to  face,  with  an  anxious,  wistful  air,  which  seemed 
to  say,  "  I  know  I  'm  not  right ;  but  I  hope  I  don't 
look  very  bad." 

Grandma  read  the  look  in  a  minute ;  and  when 
Fanny  said,  with  a  satisfied  smile,  "  How  do  we 
look?"  she  answered,  drawing  Polly  toward  her  so 
kindly, 

"  Very  like  the  fashion-plates  you  got  the  patterns 
of  your  dresses  from.  But  this  little  costume  suits 
me  best." 

"Do  you  really  think  I  look  nice?"  and  Polly's 
face  brightened,  for  she  valued  the  old  lady's  opinion 
very  much. 

u  Yes,  my  dear ;  you  look  just  as  I  like  to  see  a 
child  of  your  age  look.  What  particularly  pleases 
me  is  that  you  have  kept  your  promise  to  your  moth 
er,  and  have  n't  let  any  one  persuade  you  to  wear  bor 
rowed  finery.  Young  things  like  you  don't  need  any 
ornaments  but  those  you  wear  to-night,  —  youth, 
health,  intelligence,  and  modesty." 

As  she  spoke,  grandma  gave  a  tender  kiss  that 
made  Polly  glow  like  a  rose,  and  for  a  minute  she 
forgot  that  there  were  such  things  as  pink  silk  and 
coral  ear-rings  in  the  world.  She  only  said,  "  Thank 
you,  ma'am,"  and  heartily  returned  the  kiss ;  but  the 
words  did  her  good,  and  her  plain  dress  looked  charm 
ing  all  of  a  sudden. 

u  Polly 's  so  pretty,  it  don't* matter  what  she  wears," 
observed  Tom,  surveying  her  over  his  collar  with  an 
air  of  calm  approval. 

"  She  has  n't  got  any  bwetelles  to  her  dwess,  and  I 


Good-by.  129 

have,"  said  Maud,  settling  her  ruffled  bands  over  her 
shoulders,  which  looked  like  cherry-colored  wings  on 
a  stout  little  cherub. 

"  I  did  wish  she  'd  just  wear  my  blue  set,  ribbon  ia 
BO  very  plain  ;  but,  as  Tom  says,  it  don't  much  mat 
ter  ; "  and  Fanny  gave  an  effective  touch  to  the  blue 
bow  above  Polly's  left  temple. 

"  She  might  wear  flowers  ;  they  always  suit  young 
girls,"  said  Mrs.  Shaw,  privately  thinking  that  her 
own  daughters  looked  much  the  best,  yet  conscious 
that  blooming  Polly  had  the  most  attractive  face. 

kk  Bless  me !  I  forgot  my  posies  in  admiring  the 
belles.  Hand  them  out,  Tom  ;  "  and  Mr.  Shaw  nodded  to 
ward  an  interesting  looking  box  that  stood  on  the  table. 

Seizing  them  wrong  side  up,  Tom  produced  three 
little  bouquets,  all  different  in  color,  size,  and  con 
struction. 

"  Why,  papa !  how  very  kind  of  you,"  cried  Fanny, 
who  had  not  dared  to  receive  even  a  geranium  leaf 
since  the  late  scrape. 

"  Your  father  used  to  be  a  very  gallant  young  gen 
tleman,  once  upon  a  time,"  said  Mrs.  Shaw,  with  a 
simper. 

"  Ah,  Tom,  it's  a  good  sign  when  you  find  time  to 
think  of  giving  pleasure  to  your  little  girls  ! "  And 
grandma  patted  her  son's  bald  head  as  if  he  was  n't 
more  than  eighteen. 

Thomas  Jr.  had  given  a  somewhat  scornful  sniff  at 
first ;  but  when  grandma  praised  his  father,  the  young 
man  thought  better  of  the  matter,  and  regarded  the 
flowers  with  more  respect,  as  he  asked,  "  Which  is  for 
which?" 


130  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl 

"  Guess,"  said  Mr.  Shaw,  pleased  that  his  unusual 
demonstration  had  produced  such  an  effect. 

The  largest  was  a  regular  hothouse  bouquet,  of  tea- 
rosebuds,  scentless  heath,  and  smilax ;  the  second 
was  just  a  handful  of  sweet-peas  and  mignonette, 
with  a  few  cheerful  pansies,  and  one  fragrant  little 
rose  in  the  middle  ;  the  third,  a  small  posy  of  scarlet 
verbenas,  white  feverfew,  and  green  leaves. 

"  Not  hard  to  guess.  The  smart  one  for  Fan,  the 
sweet  one  for  Polly,  and  the  gay  one  for  Pug.  Now, 
then,  catch  hold,  girls."  And  Tom  proceeded  to  de 
liver  the  nosegays,  with  as  much  grace  as  could  be 
expected  from 4  a  youth  in  a  new  suit  of  clothes  and 
very  tight  boots. 

"  That  finishes  you  off  just  right,  and  is  a  very 
pretty  attention  of  papa's.  Now  run  down,  for  the 
bell  has  rung ;  and  remember,  not  to  dance  too  often, 
Fan ;  be  as  quiet  as  you  can,  Tom  ;  and,  Maud,  don't 
eat  too  much  supper.  Grandma  will  attend  to  things, 
for  niy  poor  nerves  won't  allow  me  to  come  down." 

With  that,  Mrs.  Shaw  dismissed  them,  and  the  four 
descended  to  receive  the  first  batch  of  visitors,  sev 
eral  little  girls  who  had  been  asked  for  the  express 
purpose  of  keeping  Maud  out  of  her  sister's  way. 
Tom  had  likewise  been  propitiated,  by  being  allowed 
to  bring  his  three  bosom  friends,  who  went  by  the 
school-boy  names  of  Rumple,  Sherry  and  Spider. 

"  They  will  do  to  make  up  sets,  as  gentlemen  are 
scarce ;  and  the  party  is  for  Polly,  so  I  must  have 
some  young  folks  on  her  account,"  said  Fanny,  when 
sending  out  her  invitations. 

Of  course,  the  boys  came  early,  and  stood  about  in 


Good-by.  .  131 

comers,  looking  as  if  they  had  more  arms  and  legs 
than  they  knew  what  to  do  with.  Tom  did  his  best 
to  be  a  good  host ;  but  ceremony  oppressed  his  spirits, 
and  he  was  forced  to  struggle  manfully  with  the  wild 
desire  to  propose  a  game  of  leap-frog,  for  the  long 
drawing-rooms,  cleared  for  dancing,  tempted  him 
sorely. 

Polly  sat  where  she  was  told,  and  suffered  bashful 
agonies  as  Fan  introduced  very  fine  young  ladies  and 
very  stiff  young  gentlemen,  who  all  said  about  the 
same  civil  things,  and  then  appeared  to  forget  all  about 
her.  When  the  first  dance  was  called,  Fanny  cor 
nered  Tom,  who  had  been  dodging  her,  for  he  knew 
what  she  wanted,  and  said,  in  an  earnest  whisper : 

"  Now,  Tom,  you  must  dance  this  with  Polly.  You 
are  the  young  gentleman  of  the  house,  and  it 's  only 
proper  that  you  should  ask  your  company  first." 

"  Polly  don't  care  for  manners.  I  hate  dancing ; 
don't  know  how.  Let  go  my  jacket,  and  don't  bother, 
or  I  '11  cut  away  altogether,"  growled  Tom,  daunted 
by  the  awful  prospect  of  opening  the  ball  with  Polly. 

"  I  '11  never  forgive  you  if  you  do.  Come,  be  clev 
er,  and  help  me,  there 's  a  dear.  You  know  we  both 
were  dreadfully  rude  to  Polly,  and  agreed  that  we  'd 
be  as  kind  and  civil  to  her  as  ever  we  could.  I  shall 
keep  my  word,  and  see  that  she  is  n't  slighted  at  my 
party,  for  I  want  her  to  love  me,  and  go  home  feeling 
all  right." 

This  artful  speech  made  an  impression  on  the 
rebellious  Thomas,  who  glanced  at  Polly's  happy 
face,  remembered  his  promise,  and,  with  a  groan, 
resolved  to  do  his  duty. 


132  An  Old-Fashioned  GirL 

"  Well,  I  '11  take  her ;  but  I  shall  come  to  grief,  for 
I  don't  know  anything  about  your  old  dances." 

"  Yes,  you  do.  I  've  taught  you  the  steps  a  dozen 
times.  I  'm  going  to  begin  with  a  reclowa,  because 
the  girls  like  it,  and  it 's  better  fun  than  square  dances. 
Now,  put  on  your  gloves,  and  go  and  ask  Polly  like  a 
gentleman." 

"  Oh,  thunder !  "  muttered  Tom.  And  having  split 
the  detested  gloves  in  dragging  them  on,  he  nerved 
himself  for  the  effort,  walked  up  to  Polly,  made  a  stiff 
bow,  stuck  out  his  elbow,  and  said,  solemnly,  uMay 
I  have  the  pleasure,  Miss  Milton  ?  " 

He  did  it  as  much  like  the  big  fellows  as  he  could, 
and  expected  that  Polly  would  be  impressed.  But 
she  was  n't  a  bit ;  for  after  a  surprised  look  she 
laughed  in  his  face,  and  took  him  by  the  hand,  say 
ing,  heartily,  — 

"  Of  course  you  may ;  but  don't  be  a  goose, 
Tommy." 

"  Well,  Fan  told  me  to  be  elegant,  so  I  tried  to," 
whispered  Tom,  adding,  as  he  clutched  his  partner 
with  a  somewhat  desperate  air,  u  Hold  on  tight,  and 
we  '11  get  through  somehow." 

The  music  struck  up,  and  away  they  went;  Tom 
hopping  one  way  and  Polly  the  other,  in  a  most  un 
graceful  manner. 

"  Keep  time  to  the  music,"  gasped  Polly. 

"  Can't ;  never  could,"  returned  Tom. 

"Keep  step  with  me,  then,  and  don't  tread  on  my 
toes,"  pleaded  Polly. 

"  Never  mind  ;  keep  bobbing,  and  we  '11  come  right 
by  and  by"  muttered  Tom,  giving  his  unfortunate 


Good-by.  133 

partner  a  sudden  whisk,  which  nearly  landed  both  on 
the  floor. 

But  they  did  not  "  get  right  by  and  by  "  ;  for  Tom, 
in  his  frantic  efforts  to  do  his  duty,  nearly  annihilated 
poor  Polly.  He  tramped,  he  bobbed,  he  skated,  he 
twirled  her  to  the  right,  dragged  her  to  the  left, 
backed  her  up  against  people  and  furniture,  trod  on 
her  feet,  rumpled  her  dress,  and  made  a  spectacle  of 
himself  generally.  Polly  was  much  disturbed ;  but 
as  every  one  else  was  flying  about  also,  she  bore  it 
as  long  as  she  could,  knowing  that  Tom  had  made  a 
martyr  of  himself,  and  feeling  grateful  to  him  for  the 
sacrifice. 

u  Oh,  do  stop  now  ;  this  is  dreadful !  "  cried  Polly, 
breathlessly,  after  a  few  wild  turns. 

"Isn't  it?"  said  Tom,  wiping  his  red  face  with 
such  an  air  of  intense  relief,  that  Polly  had  not  the 
heart  to  scold  him,  but  said,  "  Thank  you,"  and 
dropped  into  a  chair  exhausted. 

"  I  know  I  Ve  made  a  guy  of  myself;  but  Fan  in 
sisted  on  it,  for  fear  you  'd  be  offended  if  I  did  n't  go 
the  first  dance  with  you,"  said  Tom,  remorsefully, 
watching  Polly  as  she  settled  the  bow  of  her  crushed 
eash,  which  Tom  had  used  as  a  sort  of  handle  by 
which  to  turn  and  twist  her ;  "  I  can  do  the  Lancers 
tip-top ;  but  you  won't  ever  want  to  dance  with  me 
any  more,"  he  added,  as  he  began  to  fan  her  so 
violently,  that  her  hair  flew  about  as  if  in  a  gale 
of  wind.  • 

"  Yes  I  will.  I  'd  like  to  ;  and  you  shall  put  your 
name  down  here  on  the  sticks  of  my  fan.  That  *s  the 
way,  Trix  says,  when  you  don't  have  a  ball-book." 


134  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

Looking  much  gratified,  Tom  produced  the  stump 
of  a  lead-pencil,  and  wrote  his  name  with  a  flourish, 
saying,  as  he  gave  it  back,  — 

"  Now  I  'm  going  to  get  Sherry,  or  some  of  the  fel 
lows  that  do  the  redowa  well,  so  you  can  have  a  real 
good  go  before  the  music  stops." 

Off  went  Tom  ;  but  before  he  could  catch  any  eligi 
ble  partner,  Polly  was  provided  with  the  best  dancer 
in  the  room.  Mr.  Sydney  had  seen  and  heard  the 
whole  thing ;  and  though  he  had  laughed  quietly,  he 
liked  honest  Tom  and  good-natured  Polly  all  the 
better  for  their  simplicity.  Polly's  foot  was  keeping 
time  to  the  lively  music,  and  her  e3res  were  fixed  wist 
fully  on  the  smoothly-gliding  couples  before  her,  when 
Mr.  Sydney  came  to  her,  saying,  in  the  pleasant,  jret 
respectful  way  she  liked  so  much,  — 

"  Miss  Polly,  can  you  give  me  a  turn?" 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  I  'm  dying  for  another."  And  Polly 
jumped  up,  with  both  hands  out,  and  such  a  grateful 
face,  that  Mr.  Sydney  resolved  she  should  have  as 
many  turns  as  she  liked. 

This  time  all  went  well ;  and  Tom,  returning  from 
an  unsuccessful  search,  was  amazed  to  behold  Polly 
circling  gracefully  about  the  room,  guided  by  a  most 
accomplished  partner. 

"  Ah,  that 's  something  like,"  he  thought,  as  he 
watched  the  bronze  boots  retreating  and  advancing  in 
perfect  time  to  the  music.  u  Don't  see  how  Sydney 
does  the  steering  so  welj ;  but  it  must  be  fun ;  and, 
by  Jupiter !  I  '11  learn  it !  "  added  Shaw,  Jr.,  with  an 
emphatic  gesture  which  burst  the  last  button  off  m> 
gloves. 


Good-by.  135 

Polly  enjoyed  herself  till  the  music  stopped ;  and 
before  she  had  time  to  thank  Mr.  Sydney  as  warmly 
as  she  wished,  Tom  came  up  to  say,  with  his  most 
lordly  air,  — 

"  You  dance  splendidly,  Polly.  Now,  you  just 
show  me  any  one  you  like  the  looks  of,  and  I  '11  get 
him  for  you,  no  matter  who  he  is." 

"  I  don't  want  any  of  the  gentlemen  ;  they  are  so 
etiff,  and  don't  care  to  dance  with  me ;  but  I  like 
those  boys  over  there,  and  I  '11  dance  with  any  of  them 
if  they  are  willing,"  said  Polly,  after  a  survey. 

"Ill  trot  out  the  whole  lot."  And  Tom  gladly 
brought  up  his  friends,  who  all  admired  Polly  im 
mensely,  and  were  proud  to  be  chosen  instead  of  the 
"  big  fellows." 

There  was  no  sitting  still  for  Polly  after  that,  for 
the  lads  kept  her  going  at  a  great  pace  ;  and  she  was 
so  happy,  she  never  saw  or  suspected  how  many  little 
manoeuvres,  heart-burnings,  displays  of  vanity,  affec 
tation,  and  nonsense  were  going  on  all  round  her. 
She  loved  dancing,  and  entered  into  the  gayety  of  the 
scene  with  a  heartiness  that  was  pleasant  to  see. 
Her  ej'es  shone,  her  face  glowed,  her  lips  smiled,  and 
the  brown  curls  waved  in  the  air,  as  she  danced,  with 
a  heart  as  light  as  her  feet. 

"Are  you  enjoying  yourself,  Polty?"  asked  Mr. 
Shaw,  who  looked  in,  now  and  then,  to  report  to 
grandma  that  all  was  going  well. 

"  Oh,  such  a  splendid  time ! "  cried  Polly,  with  an 
enthusiastic  little  gesture,  as  she  chasseed  into  the 
corner  where  he  stood. 

"She  is  a  regular  belle  among  the  .boys."  said 
Fanny,  as  she  promenaded  by. 


136  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

"They  are  so  kind  in  asking  me,  and  I'm  not 
afraid  of  them,"  explained  Polly,  prancing,  simply 
because  she  could  n't  keep  still. 

"  So  you  are  afraid  of  the  young  gentlemen,  hey?" 
and  Mr.  Shaw  held  her  by  one  curl. 

"  All  but  Mr.  Sydney.  He  don't  put  on  airs  and 
talk  nonsense ;  and,  oh !  he  does  ;  dance  like  an 
angel/  as  Trix  says." 

"Papa,  I  wish  you'd  come  and  waltz  with  me. 
Fan  told  me  not  to  go  near  her,  'cause  my  wed  dwess 
makes  her  pink  one  look  ugly ;  and  Tom  won't ;  and 
I  want  to  dwedfully." 

"  I  've  forgotton  how,  Maudie.  Ask  Polly ;  she  11 
spin  you  round  like  a  teetotum." 

"  Mr.  Sydney's  name  is  down  for  that,"  answered 
Polly,  looking  at  her  fan  with  a  pretty  little,  air  of 
importance.  "  But  I  guess  he  would  n't  mind  my 
taking  poor  Maud  instead.  She  hasn't  danced 
hardly  any,  and  I've  had  more  than  my  share. 
Would  it  be  very  improper  to  change  my  mind?" 
And  Polly  looked  up  at  her  tall  partner  with  eyes 
which  plainly  showed  that  the  change  was  a  sacrifice. 

"Not  a  bit.  Give  the  little  dear  a  good  waltz, 
and  we  will  look  on,"  answered  Mr.  Sydney,  with  a 
nod  and  smile. 

"  That  is  a  refreshing  little  piece  of  nature,"  said 
Mr.  Shaw,  as  Polly  and  Maud  whirled  away. 

"  She  will  make  a  charming  little  woman,  if  she 
is  n't  spoilt." 

"No  danger  of  that.  She  has  got  a  sensible 
mother." 

"I  thought  so."  And  Sydney  sighed,  for  he  had 
lately  lost  his  own  good  mother. 


Good-by.  137 

When  supper  was  announced,  Polly  happened  to  be 
talking,  or  trying  to  talk,  to  one  of  the  "  poky  "  gen 
tlemen  whom  Fan  had  introduced.  He  took  Miss 
Milton  down,  of  course,  put  her  in  a  corner,  and  hav 
ing  served  her  to  a  dab  of  ice  and  one  macaroon,  he 
devoted  himself  to  his  own  supper  with  such  interest, 
that  Folly  would  have  fared  badly,  if  Tom  had  not 
come  and  rescued  her. 

"  I  've  been  looking  everywhere  for  you.  Come 
with  me,  and  don't  sit  starving  here,"  said  Tom,  with 
a  scornful  look  from  her  empty  plate  to  that  of  her 
recreant  escort,  which  was  piled  with  good  things. 

Following  her  guide,  Polly  was  taken  to  the  big 
china  closet,  opening  from  the  dining'-room  to  the 
kitchen,  and  here  she  found  a  jovial  little 'party  feast 
ing  at  ease.  Maud  and  her  bosom  friend,  "  Gwace," 
were  seated  on  tin  cake-boxes ;  Sherry  and  Spider 
adorned  the  refrigerator ;  while  Tom  and  Rumple  for 
aged  for  the  party. 

"  Here 's  fun,"  said  Polly,  as  she  was  received  with 
a  clash  of  spoons  and  a  waving  of  napkins. 

"  You  just  perch  on  that  cracker-keg,  and  I  '11  see 
that  you  get  enough,"  said  Tom,  putting  a  dumb 
waiter  before  her,  and  issuing  his  orders  with  a  fine 
air  of  authority. 

"  We  are  a  band  of  robbers  in  our  cave,  and  I  *m  the 
captain  ;  and  we  pitch  into  the  folks  passing  by,  and 
go  out  and  bring  home  plunder.  Now,  Rumple,  you 
go  and  carry  off  a  basket  of  cake,  and  I  '11  watch  here 
till  Katy  comes  by  with  a  fresh  lot  of  oysters  ;  Polly 
must  have  some.  Sherry,  cut  into  the  kitchen,  and 
bring  a  cup  of  coffee.  Spider,  scrape  up  the  salad. 


138  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

and  poke  the  dish  through  the  slide  for  more.  Eat 
away,  Polly,  and  my  men  will  be  back  with  supplies 
in  a  jiffy." 

Such  fun  as  they  had  in  that  closet ;  such  daring 
robberies  of  jelly-pots  and  cake-boxes  ;  such  success 
ful  raids  into  the  dining-room  and  kitchen  ;  such  base 
assaults  upon  poor  Katy  and  the  colored  waiter,  who 
did  his  best,  but  was  helpless  in  the  hands  of  the  rob 
ber  horde.  A  very  harmless  little  revel ;  for  no  wine 
was  allowed,  and  the  gallant  band  were  so  busy 
skirmishing  to  supply  the  ladies,  that  they  had  not 
time  to  eat  too  much.  No  one  missed  them ;  and 
when  they  emerged,  the  feast  was  over,  except  for  a 
few  voracious  young  gentlemen,  who^  still  lingered 
among  the  ruins. 

u  That's  the  way  they  always  do  ;  poke  the  girls  in 
corners,  give  'em  just  one  taste  of  something,  and 
then  go  and  stuff  like  pigs,"  whispered  Tom,  with  a 
superior  air,  forgetting  certain  private  banquets -of  his 
own,  after  company  had  departed. 

The  rest  of  the  evening  was  to  be  devoted  to  the 
German  ;  and,  as  Polly  knew  nothing  about  it,  she 
established  herself  in  a  window  recess  to  watch  the 
mysteries.  For  a  time  she  enjoyed  it,  for  it  was  all 
new  to  her,  and  the  various  pretty  devices  were  very 
charming ;  but,  by  and  by,  that  bitter  weed,  envy, 
cropped  up  again,  and  she  could  not  feel  happy  to  be 
left  out  in  the  cold,  while  the  other  girls  were  getting 
gay  tissue-paper  suits,  droll  bonbons,  flowers,  ribbons, 
and  all  manner  of  tasteful  trifles  in  which  girlish  souls 
delight.  Every  one  was  absorbed ;  Mr.  Sydney  was 
dancing  ;  Tom  and  his  friends  were  discussing  base- 


Good-by.  139 

ball  on  the  stairs ;  and  Maud's  set  had  returned  to 
the  library  to  play. 

Polly  tried  to  conquer  the  bad  feeling ;  but  it  wor 
ried  her,  till  she  remembered  something  her  mother 
once  said  to  her,  — 

"  When  you  feel  out  of  sorts,  try  to  make  some  one 
else  happy,  and  you  will  soon  be  so  yourself." 

"  I  will  try  it,"  thought  Polly,  and  looked  round 
to  see  what  she  could  do.  Sounds  of  strife  in  the 
library  led  her  to  enter.  Maud  and  the  young  ladies 
were  sitting  on  the  sofa,  talking  about  each  other's 
clothes,  as  they  had  seen  their  mammas  do. 

"  Was  your  dress  imported?"  asked  Grace. 

"  No  ;  was  yours?"  returned  Blanche. 

"  Yes  ;  and  it  cost —  oh,  ever  so  much." 

"  I  don't  think  it  is  as  pretty  as  Maud's." 

"  Mine  was  made  in  New  York,"  said  Miss  Shaw, 
smoothing  her  skirts  complacently. 

u  I  can't  dress  much  now,  you  know,  'cause  mam 
ma  's  in  black  for  somebody,"  observed  Miss  Alice 
Lovett,  feeling  the  importance  which  affliction  con 
ferred  upon  her  when  it  took  the  form  of  a  jet  necklace. 

"  Well,  I  don't  care  if  my  dress  is  n't  imported  ;  my 
cousin  had  three  kinds  of  wine  at  her  party  ;  so,  now," 
said  Blanche. 

"  Did  she?"  And  all  the  little  girls  looked  deeply 
impressed,  till  Maud  observed,  with  a  funny  imitation 
of  her  father's  manner,  — 

"  My  papa  said  it  was  scan-dill-us  ;  for  some  of  the 
little  boys  got  tipsy,  and  had  to  be  tooked  home. 
He  would  n't  let  us  have  any  wine ;  and  gwandma 
said  it  was  vewy  impwoper  for  childwen  to  do  so." 


140  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

"  My  mother  says  your  mother's  coupe  is  n't  half  so 
stylish  as  ours,"  put  in  Alice. 

"  Yes,  it  is,  too.  It 's  all  lined  with  gween  silk, 
and  that 's  nicer  than  old  wed  cloth,"  cried  Maud,  ruf 
fling  up  like  an  insulted  chicken. 

"  Well,  my  brother  don't  wear  a  horrid  old  cap,  and 
he 's  got  nice  hair.  I  would  n't  have  a  brother  like 
Tom.  He 's  horrid  rude,  my  sister  says,"  retorted 
Alice. 

"  He  is  n't.     Your  brother  is  a  pig." 

"You 're  a  fib!" 

"  So  are  you !  " 

Here,  I  regret  to  say,  Miss  Shaw  slapped  Miss 
Lovett,  who  promptly  returned  the  compliment,  and 
both  began  to  cry. 

Polly,  who  had  paused  to  listen  to  the  edifying 
chat,  parted  the  belligerents,  and  finding  the  poor 
things  tired,  cross,  and  sleepy,  yet  unable  to  go  home 
till  sent  for,  proposed  to  play  games.  The  young 
ladies  consented,  and  "  Puss  in  the  corner  "  proved  a 
peacemaker.  Presently,  in  came  the  boys  ;  and  being 
exiles  from  the  German,  gladly  joined  in  the  games, 
which  soon  were  lively  enough  to  wake  the  sleepiest. 
"  Blind-man's-buff"  was  in  full  swing  when  Mr.  Shaw 
peeped  in,  and  seeing  Polly  flying  about  with  band 
aged  eyes,  joined  in  the  fun  to  puzzle  her.  He  got 
caught  directly  ;  and  great  merriment  was  caused  by 
Polly's  bewilderment,  for  she  could  n't  guess  who  he 
was,  till  she  felt  the  bald  spot  on  his  head. 

This  frolic  put  every  one  in  such  spirits,  that  Polly 
forgot  her  trouble,  and  the  little  girls  kissed  each 
other  good-night  as  affectionately  as  if  such  things  as 


Good-by.  141 

imported  frocks,   coupes,  and  rival  brothers   didn't 
exist. 

"Well,  Polly,  do  you  like  parties?"  asked  Fan, 
when  the  last  guest  was  gone. 

"  Very  much ;  but  I  don't  think  it  would  be  good 
for  me  to  go  to  many,"  answered  Polly,  slowly. 

"Why  not?" 

"  I  should  n't  enjoy  them  if  I  did  n't  have  a  fine 
dress,  and  dance  all  the  thne,  and  be  admired,  and 
—  all  the  rest  of  it." 

"  I  did  n't  know  you  cared  for  such  things,"  cried 
Fanny,  surprised. 

"  Neither  did  I  till  to-night ;  but  I  do ;  and  as  I 
can't  have  'em,  it 's  lucky  I  'm  going  home  to-morrow." 

"  Oh,  clear  !  So  you  are  !  What  shall  I  do  with 
out  my  *  sweet  P.,'  as  Sydney  calls  you?"  sighed 
Fanny,  bearing  Polly  away  to  be  cuddled. 

Every  one  echoed  the  exclamation  next  day ;  and 
many  loving  eyes  followed  the  little  figure  in  the  drab 
frock  as  it  went  quietly  about,  doing  for  the  last  time 
the  small  services  which  would  help  to  make  its  ab 
sence  keenly  felt.  Polly  was  to  go  directly  after  an 
early  dinner,  and  having  packed  her  trunk,  all  but 
one  tray,  she  was  told  to  go  and  take  a  run  while 
grandma  finished.  Polly  suspected  that  some  pleas 
ant  surprise  was  going  to  be  put  in  ;  for  Fan  did  n't 
offer  to  go  with  her,  Maud  kept  dodging  about  with 
something  under  her  apron,  and  Tom  had  just  whisked 
into  his  mother's  room  in  a  mysterious  manner.  So, 
Polly  took  the  hint  and  went  away,  rejoicing  in  the 
thought  of  the  unknown  treasures  she  was  to  carry 
home. 


142  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

Mr.  Shaw  had  not  said  he  should  come  home  so 
early,  but  Polly  thought  he  might,  and  went  to  meet 
him.  Mr.  Shaw  did  n't  expect  to  see  Polly,  for  he 
had  left  her  very  busy,  and  now  a  light  snow  was  fall 
ing  ;  but,  as  he  turned  into  the  mall  there  was  the 
round  hat,  and  under  it  the  bright  face,  looking  all  the 
rosier  for  being  powdered  with  snow-flakes,  as  Polly 
came  running  to  meet  him. 

"  There  won't  be  any  one  to  help  the  old  gentleman 
safely  home  to-morrow,"  he  said,  as  Polly  took  his 
hand  in  both  hers  with  an  affectionate  squeeze. 

"  Yes,  there  will ;  see  if  there  isn't,"  cried  Polly, 
nodding  and  smiling,  for  Fan  had  confided  to  her  that 
she  meant  to  try  it  after  her  friend  had  gone. 

"  I  'm  glad  of  it.  But,  my  dear,  I  want  you  to 
promise  that  you  will  come  and  make  us  a  visit  every 
winter,  —  a  good  long  one,"  said  Mr.  Shaw,  patting 
the  blue  mittens  folded  round  his  hand. 

"  If  they  can  spare  me  from  home,  I  'd  love  to  come 
dearly." 

"  They  must  lend  you  for  a  little  while,  because  you 
do  us  all  good,  and  we  need  you." 

"  Do  I  ?  I  don't  see  how ;  but  I  'm  glad  to  hear 
you  say  so,"  cried  Polly,  much  touched. 

"  I  can't  tell  you  how,  exactly ;  but  you  brought 
something  into  my  house  that  makes  it  warmer  and 
pleasanter,  and  won't  quite  vanish,  I  hope,  when  you 
go  away,  my  child." 

Polly  had  never  heard  Mr.  Shaw  speak  like  that 
before,  and  did  n't  know  what  to  say,  she  felt  so  proud 
and  happy  at  this  proof  of  the  truth  of  her  mother's 
words,  when  she  said  that  "  even  a  little  girl  could 


Good-by.  143 

exert  an  influence,  and  do  some  good  in  this  big,  busy 
world."  She  only  gave  her  friend  a  grateful  look 
sweeter  than  any  words,  and  they  went  on  together, 
hand  in  hand,  through  the  "  soft-falling  snow." 

If  Polly  could  have  seen  what  went  into  that  top 
tray,  she  would  have  been  entirely  overcome ;  for 
Fanny  had  told  grandma  about  the  poor  little  pres 
ents  she  had  once  laughed  at,  and  they  had  all  laid 
their  heads  together  to  provide  something  really  fine 
and  appropriate  for  every  member  of  the  Milton  fam 
ily.  Such  a  mine  of  riches  !  and  so  much  good-will, 
affection,  and  kindly  forethought  was  packed  away  in 
the  tempting  bundles,  that  no  one  could  feel  offended, 
but  would  find  an  unusual  charm  about  the  pretty 
gifts  that  made  them  doubly  welcome.  I  only  know 
that  if  Polly  had  suspected  that  a  little  watch  was 
ticking  away  in  a  little  case,  with  her  name  on  it, 
inside  that  trunk,  she  never  could  have  left  it  locked 
as  grandma  advised,  or  have  eaten  her  dinner  so 
quietly.  As  it  was,  her  heart  was  very  full,  and  the 
tears  rose  to  her  eyes  more  than  once,  every  one  was 
so  kind,  and  so  sorry  to  have  her  go. 

Tom  did  n't  need  any  urging  to  play  escort  now  ; 
and  both  Fan  and  Maud  insisted  on  going  too.  Mrs. 
Shaw  forgot  her  nerves,  and  put  up  some  gingerbread 
with  her  own  hands  ;  Mr.  Shaw  kissed  Polly  as  if  she 
had  been  his  dearest  daughter ;  and  grandma  held  her 
close,  whispering  in  a  tremulous  tone,  "  My  little 
comfort,  come  again  soon " ;  while  Katy  waved  her 
apron  from  the  nursery  window,  crying,  as  they  drove 
away,  "  The  saints  bless  ye,  Miss  Polly,  dear,  and 
sind  ye  the  best  of  lucks  ! " 


144  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

But  the  crowning  joke  of  all  was  Tom's  good-by ; 
for,  when  Polly  was  fairly  settled  in  the  car,  the  last 
"  All  aboard  !  "  uttered,  and  the  train  in  motion,  Tom 
suddenly  produced  a  knobby  little  bundle,  and  thrust 
ing  it  in  at  the  window,  while  he  hung  on  in  some 
breakneck  fashion,  said,  with  a  droll  mixture  of 
fun  and  feeling  in  his  face,  — 

"  It 's  horrid ;  but  you  wanted  it,  so  I  put  it  in  to 
make  you  laugh.  Good-by,  Polly ;  good-by,  good- 
by  I" 

The  last  adieu  was  a  trifle  husky,  and  Tom  vanished 
as  it  was  uttered,  leaving  Polly  to  laugh  over  his  part 
ing  souvenir  till  the  tears  ran  down  her  cheeks.  It 
was  a  paper  bag  of  peanuts,  and  poked  down  at  the 
very  bottom  a  photograph  of  Tom.  It  was  "  horrid," 
for  he  looked  as  if  taken  by  a  flash  of  lightning,  so 
black,  wild,  and  staring  was  it ;  but  Polly  liked  it, 
and  whenever  she  felt  a  little  pensive  at  parting  with 
tier  friends,  she  took  a  peanut,  or  a  peep  at  Tom's 
funny  picture,  which  made  her  merry  again. 

So  the  short  journey  came  blithely  to  an  end,  and 
m  the  twilight  she  saw  a  group  of  loving  faces  at  the 
door  of  a  humble  little  house,  which  was  more  beauti 
ful  than  any  palace  in  her  eyes,  for  it  was  home. 


CHAPTER  VHL 

SIX    YEARS     AFTERWARD. 

,  it  T1TIIAT  do  you  think  Polly  is  going  to  do  this 
winter  ?  "  exclaimed  Fanny,  looking  up  from 
the  letter  she  had  been  eagerly  reading. 

"  Going  to  deliver  lectures  on  Woman's  Rights," 
said  the  young  gentleman  who  was  carefully  examin 
ing  his  luxuriant  crop  of  decidedly  auburn  hair,  as 
he  lounged  with  both  elbows  on  the  chimney-piece. 

"  Going  to  set  her  cap  for  some  young  minister  and 
marry  him  in  the  spring,"  added  Mrs.  Shaw,  whose 
mind  ran  a  good  deal  upon  match-making  just  now. 

"  I  think  she  is  going  to  stay  at  home,  and  do  all 
the  work,  'cause  servants  cost  so  much ;  it  would  be 
just  like  her,"  observed  Maud,  who  could  pronounce 
the  letter  R  now. 

"  It 's  my  opinion  she  is  going  to  open  a  school,  or 
something  of  that  sort,  to  help  those  brothers  of  hers 
along,"  said  Mr.  Shaw,  who  had  put  down  his  paper 
at  the  sound  of  Polly's  name. 

44  Every  one  of  you  wrong,  though  papa  comes 
nearest  the  truth,"  cried  Fanny ;  "  she  is  going  to  give 
music  lessons,  and  support  herself,  so  that  Will  may 
go  to  college.  He  is  the  studious  one,  and  Polly  is 

10 


146  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

very  proud  of  him.  Ned,  the  other  brother,  has  a 
business  talent,  and  don't  care  for  books,  so  he  has 
gone  out  West,  and  will  make  his  own  way  anywhere. 
Polly  says  she  is  n't  needed  at  home  now,  the  family  is 
so  small,  and  Kitty  can  take  her  place  nicely  ;  so  she 
is  actually  going  to  earn  her  own  living,  and  hand 
over  her  share  of  the  family  income  to  Will.  What  a 
martyr  that  girl  does  make  of  herself,"  and  Fanny 
looked  as  solemn  as  if  Polly  had  proposed  some  awful 
self-sacrifice. 

"  She  is  a  sensible,  brave-hearted  girl,  and  I  respect 
her  for  doing  it,"  said  Mr.  Shaw,  emphatically.  "One 
never  knows  what  may  happen,  and  it  does  no  harm 
for  young  people  to  learn  to  be  independent." 

"  If  she  is  as  pretty  as  she  was  last  time  I  saw  her, 
she  '11  get  pupils  fast  enough.  I  would  n't  mind  tak 
ing  lessons  myself,"  was  the  gracious  observation  of 
Shaw,  jr.,  as  he  turned  from  the  mirror,  with  the  sooth 
ing  certainty  that  his  objectionable  hair"  actually 
was  growing  darker. 

"  She  would  n't  take  you  at  any  price,"  said  Fanny, 
remembering  Polty's  look  of  disappointment  and  dis 
approval  when  she  came  on  her  last  visit  and  found 
him  an  unmistakable  dandy. 

"  You  just  wait  and  see,"  was  the  placid  reply. 

"  If  Polly  does  carry  out  her  plan,  I  wish  Maud  to 
take  lessons  of  her ;  Fanny  can  do  as  she  likes,  but  it 
would  please  me  very  much  to  have  one  of  my  girls 
sing  as  Polly  sings.  It  suits  old  people  better  than 
your  opera  things,  and  mother  used  to  enjoy  it  so 
much." 

As  he  spoke,  Mr.  Shaw's   eye  turned  toward  the 


Six  Years   Afterward.  147 

corner  of  the  fire  where  grandma  used  to  sit.  The 
easy  chair  was  empty  now,  the  kind  old  face  was, 
gone,  and  nothing  but  a  very  tender  memory  re 
mained. 

"  I  'd  like  to  learn,  papa,  and  Polly  is  a  splendid 
teacher,  I  know  ;  she 's  always  so  patient,  and  makes 
everything  so  pleasant.  I  do  hope  she  will  get  schol 
ars  enough  to  begin  right  away,"  said  Maud. 

"When  is  she  coming?"  asked  Mrs.  Shaw,  quite 
willing  to  help  Polly,  but  privately  resolving  that  Maud 
should  be  finished  off  by  the  most  fashionable  master 
in  the  city. 

."  She  does  n't  say.  She  thanks  me  for  asking  her 
here,  as  usual,  but  says  she  shall  go  right  to  work,  and 
had  better  begin  with  her  own  little  room  at  once. 
Won't  it  seem  strange  to  have  Polly  in  town,  and 
yet  not  with  us  ?  "  * 

"We'll  get  her  somehow.  The  little  room  will 
cost  something,  and  she  can  stay  with  us  just  as  well 
as  not,  even  if  she  does  teach.  Tell  her  I  say  so/ 
said  Mr.  Shaw. 

"  She  won't  come,  I  know ;  for  if  she  undertakes  to 
be  independent,  she'll  do  it  in  the  most  thorough 
manner,"  answered  Fanny,  and  Mrs.  Shaw  sincerely 
hoped  she  would.  It  was  all  very  well  to  patronize 
the  little  music  teacher,  but  it  was  not  so  pleasant  to 
have  her  settled  in  the  family. 

"  I  shall  do  what  I  can  for  her  among  my  fiends, 
and  I  dare  say  she  will  get  on  very  well  with  young 
pupils  to  begin  with.  If  she  starts  right,  puts  her 
terms  high  enough,  and  gets  a  few  good  names  to 
give  her  the  entree  into  our  first  families,  I  don't 


148  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

doubt  she  will  do  nicely,  for  I  must  say  Polly  has  the 
manners  of  a  lady,"  observed  Mrs.  Shaw. 

"  She's  a  might}7"  taking  little  body,  and  I'm  glad 
she 's  to  be  in  town,  though  I  'd  like  it  better  if  she 
didn't  bother  about  teaching,  but  just  sta3'ed  here  and 
enjoyed  herself,"  said  Tom,  lazily. 

"  I've  no  doubt  she  would  feel  highly  honored  to  be 
allowed  to  devote  her  time  to  your  amusement ;  but 
she  can't  afford  expensive  luxuries,  and  she  don't  ap 
prove  of  flirting,  so  you  will  have  to  let  her  go  her 
own  way,  and  refresh  herself  with  such  glimpses  of 
you  as  her  engagements  permit,"  answered  Fannjr,  in 
the  sarcastic  tone  which  was  becoming  habitual  to  her. 

"  You  are  getting  to  be  a  regular  old  maid,  Fan ; 
as  sharp  as  a  lemon,  and  twice  as  sour,"  returned 
Tom,  looking  down  at  her  with  an  air  of  calm  supe 
riority. 

"  Do  be  quiet,  children  ;  you  know  I  can't  bear  any 
thing  like  contention.  Maud,  give  me  my  Shetland 
shawl,  and  put  a  cushion  at  my  back." 

As  Maud  obeyed  her  mother,  with  a  reproving  look 
at  her  erring  brother  and  sister,  a  pause  followed,  for 
which  every  one  seemed  grateful.  They  were  sitting 
about  the  fire  after  dinner,  and  all  looked  as  if  a  lit 
tle  sunshine  would  do  them  good.  It  had  been  a  dull 
November  day,  but  all  of  a  sudden  the  clouds  lifted, 
and  a  bright  ray  shot  into  the  room.  Every  one 
turned  involuntarily  to  welcome  it,  and  every  one 
cried  out,  "  Why,  Polly  !  "  for  there  on  the  threshold 
stood  a  bright-faced  girl,  smiling  as  if  there  was  no 
such  thing  as  November  weather  in  the  world. 

"  You   dear    thing,   when   did   you   come  ? "   cried 


Six  Years   Afterward.  149 

Fanny,  kissing  both  the  blooming  cheeks  with  real 
affection,  while  the  rest  hovered  near,  waiting  for  a 
chance. 

"  I  came  yesterdaj^  and  have  been  getting  my  nest 
in  order ;  but  I  could  n't  keep  away  any  longer,  so  I 
ran  up  to  say  4IIow  do  you  do?' "answered  Polly,  in 
the  cheery  voice  that  did  one's  heart  good  to  hear. 

"  My  Polly  always  brings  the  sunshine  with  her," 
and  Mr.  Shaw  held  out  his  hands  to  his  little  friend, 
for  she  was  his  favorite  still. 

It  was  good  to  see  her  put  both  arms  about  his 
neck,  and  give  him  a  tender  kiss,  that  said  a  great 
deal,  for  grandma  had  died  since  Polly  met  him  last, 
and  she  longed  to  comfort  him,  seeing  how  gray  and 
old  he  had  grown. 

IT  Tom  had  had  any  thoughts  of  following  his 
father's  example,  something  in  Polly's  manner  made 
him  change  his  mind,  and  shake  hands  with  a  hearty 
" 1  'm  very  glad  to  see  you,  Polly,"  adding  to  himself, 
as  he  looked  at  the  face  in  the  modest  little  bonnet : 
"  Prettier  than  ever,  by  Jove  !  " 

There  was  something  more  than  mere  prettiness  in 
Polly's  face,  though  Tom  had  not  learned  to  see  it 
yet.  The  blue  eyes  were  clear  and  steady,  the  fresh 
mouth  frank  and  sweet,  the  white  chin  was  a  very 
firm  one  in  spite  of  the  dimple,  and  the  smooth  fore 
head  under  the  little  curls  had  a  broad,  benevolent 
arch  ;  while  all  about  the  face  were  those  unmistakable 
lines  and  curves  which  can  make  even  a  plain  coun 
tenance  comely,  by  breathing  into  it  the  beauty  of  a 
lovely  character.  Polly  had  grown  up,  but  she  had 
no  more  style  now  than  in  the  days  of  the  round  hat 


150  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

and  rough  coat,  for  she  was  all  in  gray,  like  a  young 
Quakeress,  with  no  ornament  but  a  blue  bow  at  the 
throat  and  another  in  the  hair.  Yet  the  plain  suit 
became  her  excellently,  and  one  never  thought  of  the 
dress,  looking  at  the  active  figure  that  wore  it,  for  the 
freedom  of  her  childhood  gave  to  Polly  that  good 
gift,  health,  and  every  movement  was  full  of  the  vigor, 
grace,  and  ease,  which  -  nothing  else  can  so  surely 
bestow.  A  happy  soul  in  a  healthy  body  is  a  rare 
sight  in  these  days,  when  doctors  flourish  and  every 
one  is  ill,  and  this  pleasant  union  was  the  charm 
which  Polly  possessed  without  knowing  it. 

"It  does  seem  so  good  to  have  you  here  again,'" 
said  Maud,  cuddling  Polly's  cold  hand,  as  she  sat  at 
her  feet,  when  she  was  fairly  established  between  Fan 
ny  and  Mr.  Shaw,  while  Tom  leaned  on  the  back  of 
his  mother's  chair,  and  enjoyed  the  prospect. 

"  Flow  do  you  get  on?  When  do  you  begin? 
Where  is  your  nest  ?  Now  tell  all  about  it,"  began 
Fanny,  who  was  full  of  curiosity  about  the  new  plan. 

"  I  shall  get  on  very  well,  I  think,  for  I  've  got 
twelve  scholars  to  begin  with,  all  able  to  pay  a  good 
price,  and  I  shall  give  my  first  lesson  on  Monday." 

"Don't  you  dread  it?"  asked  Fanny. 

"  Not  much  ;  why  should  I  ?"  answered  Polly,  stoutly. 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  ;  it's  a  new  thing,  and  must 
be  a  little  bit  hard  at  first,"  stammered  Fanny,  not 
liking  to  say  that  working  for  one's  living  seemed 
a  dreadful  hardship  to  her. 

44  It  will  be  tiresome,  of  course,  but  I  shall  get  used 
to  it ;  I  shall  like  the  exercise,  and  the  new  people  and 
places  I  must  see  will  amuse  me.  Then  the  indepeu- 


Six  Years   Afterward.  151 

dence  will  be  delightful,  and  if  I  can  save  a  little  to 
help  Kitty  along  with,  that  will  be  best  of  all." 

Polly's  face  shone  as  if  the  prospect  was  full  of 
pleasure  instead  of  work,  and  the  hearty  good  will 
with  which  she  undertook  the  new  task,  seemed  to 
dignif}T  her  humble  hopes  and  plans,  and  make  them 
interesting  in  the  sight  of  others. 

"  Who  have  you  got  for  pupils?"  asked  Mrs.  Shaw, 
forgetting  her  nerves  for  a  minute. 

Polly  named  her  list,  and  took  a  secret  satisfaction 
in  seeing  the  impression  which  certain  names  made 
upon  her  hearers. 

"  How  in  the  world  did  you  get  the  Davenports 
and  the  Greys,  my  dear?"  said  Mrs.  Shaw,  sitting 
erect  in  her  surprise. 

"Mrs.  Davenport  and  mother  are  relations,  you 
know." 

"  You  never  told  us  that  before  !  " 

"  The  Davenports  have  been  away  some  years,  arid 
I  forgot  all  about  them.  But  when  I  was  making  my 
plan,  I  knew  I  must  have  a  good  name  or  two  to  set  me 
going,  so  I  just  wrote  and  asked  Mrs.  D.  if  she  would 
help  me.  She  came  and  saw  us  and  was  very  kind, 
and  has  got  these  pupils  for  me,  like  a  dear,  good 
woman  as  she  is." 

"  Where  did  you  learn  so  much  worldly  wisdom, 
Polly?"  asked  Mr.  Shaw,  as  his  wife  fell  back  in  her 
chair,  and  took  out  her  salts,  as  if  this  discovery  had 
been  too  much  for  her. 

"  I  learnt  it  here,  sir,"  answered  Polly,  laughing. 
"  I  used  to  think  patronage  and  things  of  that  sort 
very  disagreeable  and  not  worth  having,  but  I  've  got 


152  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

wiser,  and  to  a  certain  extent  I  'm  glad  to  use  what 
ever  advantages  I  have  in  m^  power,  if  they  can  be 
honestly  got." 

"  Why  did  n't  you  let  us  help  you  in  the  beginning  ? 
We  should  have  been  very  glad  to,  I  'm  sure,"  put  in 
Mrs.  Shaw,  who  quite  burned  to  be  known  as  a  joint 
patroness  with  Mrs.  Davenport. 

"  I  know  you  would,  but  you  have  all  been  so  kind 
to  me  I  did  n't  want  to  trouble  you  with  my  little 
plans  till  the  first  steps  were  taken.  Besides,  I 
did  n't  know  as  you  would  like  to  recommend  me  as 
a  teacher,  though  you  like  me  well  enough  as  plain 
Polly." 

u  My  dear,  of  course  I  would,  and  we  want  you  to 
take  Maud  at  once,  and  teach  her  your  sweet  songs. 
She  has  a  fine  voice,  and  is  really  suffering  for  a 
teacher." 

A  slight  smile  passed  over  Polly's  face  as  she  re 
turned  her  thanks  for  the  new  pupil,  for  she  remem 
bered  a  time  when  Mrs.  Shaw  considered  her  "  sweet 
songs"  quite  unfit  for  a  fashionable  young  lady's 
repertoire. 

"Where  is  your  room?"  asked  Maud. 

"  My  old  friend  Miss  Mills  has  taken  me  in,  and  1 
am  nicely  settled.  Mother  did  n't  like  the  idea  of  my 
going  to  a  strange  boarding-house,  so  Miss  Mills 
kindly  made  a  place  for  me.  You  know  she  lets  her 
rooms  without  board,  but  she  is  going  to  give  me  my 
dinners,  and  I  'm  to  get  my  own  breakfast  and  tea, 
quite  independently.  I  like  that  way,  and  it 's  ver^ 
little  trouble,  my  habits  are  so  simple  ;  a  bowl  of  bread 
a  lid  milk  night  and  morning,  with  baked  apples  or 


Six  Years   Afterward.  153 

something  of  that  sort,  is  all  I  want,  and  I  can  have 
it  when  I  like." 

"  Is  your  room  comfortably  furnished  ?  Can't  we  lend 
you  anything,  my  dear?  An  easy  chair  now,  or  a 
little  couch,  so  necessary  when  one  comes  in  tired," 
said  Mrs.  Shaw,  taking  unusual  interest  in  the  affair. 

"  Thank  you,  but  I  don't  need  anything,  for  I 
brought  all  sorts  of  home  comforts  with  me.  Oh, 
Fan,  you  ought  to  have  seen  my  triumphal  entry  into 
the  city,  sitting  among  my  goods  and  chattels,  in  a 
farmer's  cart."  Polly's  laugh  was  so  infectious  that 
every  one  smiled  and  forgot  to  be  shocked  at  her 
performance.  "  Yes."  she  added,  "  I  kept  wishing  1 
could  meet  you,  just  to"  see  your  horrified  fa.ce  when 
you  saw  me  sitting  on  my  little  sofa,  with  boxes  and 
bundles  all  round  me,  a  bird-cage  on  one  side,  a  fish 
ing  basket,  with  a  kitten's  head  popping  in  and  out  of 
the  hole,  on  the  other  side,  and  jolly  old  Mr.  Brown, 
in  his  blue  frock,  perched  on  a  keg  of  apples  in  front. 
It  was  a  lovely  bright  day,  and  I  enjoyed  the  ride  im 
mensely,  for  we  had  all  sorts  of  adventures." 

"  Oh,  tell  about  it,"  begged  Maud,  when  the  genera] 
laugh  at  Polly's  picture  had  subsided. 

"  Well,  in  the  first  place,  we  forgot  my  ivy,  and  Kit 
ty  came  running  after  me,  with  it.  Then  we  started 
again,  but  werelsoon  stopped  by  a  great  shouting,  and 
there  was  Will  racing  down  the  hill,  waving  a  pillow 
in  one  hand  and  a  squash  pie  in  the  other.  How  we  did 
laugh  when  he  came  up  and  explained  that  our  neigh 
bor,  old  Mrs.  Dodd.  had  sent  in  a  hop-pillow  for  me,  in 
case  of  headache,  and  a  pie  to  begin  house-keeping 
with.  She  seemed  so  disappointed  at  being  too  Itite 


154  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

that  Will  promised  to  get  them  to  me,  if  he  ran  all 
the  way  to  town.  The  pillow  was  easily  disposed  of, 
but  that  pie !  I  do  believe  it  was  stowed  in  every 
part  of  the  wagon,  and  never  staid  air^where.  !•  found 
it  in  my  lap ;  then  on  the  floor ;  next,  upside  down 
among  the  books  ;  then  just  on  the  point  of  coasting 
off  a  trunk  into  the  road,  and  at  last  it  landed  in  my 
rocking-chair.  Such  a  remarkable  pie  as  it  was,  too, 
for  in  spite  of  all  its  wanderings,  it  never  got  spilt  or 
broken,  and  we  finally  ate  it  for  lunch,  in  order  to  be 
left  in  peace.  Next,  my  kitty  got  away,  and  I  had  a 
chase  over  walls  and  brooks  before  I  got  her,  while 
Mr.  Brown  sat  shaking  with  fun,  to  see  me  run.  "We 
finished  off  by  having  the  book-shelves  tumble  on  our 
heads  as  we  went  down  a  hill,  and  losing  my  chair 
off  behind,  as  we  went  up  a  hill.  A  shout  made  us 
pause,  and,  looking  back,  there  was  the  poor  little 
chair  rocking  all  by  itself  in  the  middle  of  the  road, 
while  a  small  boy  sat  on  the  fence  and  whooped.  It 
was  great  fun,  I  do  assure  you." 

Polly  had  run  on  in  her  lively  way,  not  because  she 
thought  her  adventures  amounted  to  much,  but  from  a 
wish  to  cheer  up  her  friends,  who  had  struck  her  as 
looking  rather  dull  and  out  of  sorts,  especially  Mr. 
Shaw ;  and  when  she  saw  him  lean  back  in  his  chair 
with  the  old  hearty  laugh,  she  wa*  satisfied,  and 
blessed  the  unlucky  pie  for  amusing  him. 

"  Oh,  Polly,  you  do  tell  such  interesting  things  !  " 
sighed  Maud,  wiping  her  eyes. 

"  I  wish  I  'd  met  you,  I  fd  have  given  you  three 
cheers  and  a  tiger,  for  it  must  have  been  an  imposing 
spectacle,"  said  Tom. 


Six  Years   Afterward.  155 

"No,  you  wouldn't;  you'd  have  whisked  round 
the  corner  when  you  saw  me  coming,  or  have  stared 
straight  before  you,  utterly  unconscious  of  the  young 
woman  in  the  baggage  wagon." 

Polly  laughed  in  his  face  just  as  she  used  to  do, 
when  she  said  that,  and,  in  spite  of  the  doubt  cast 
upon  his  courtesy,  Tom  rather  liked  it,  though  he  had 
nothing  to  say  for  himself  but  a  reproachful,  —  . 

"  Now,  Polly,  that 's  too  bad." 

"  True,  nevertheless.  You  must  come  and  see  my 
pets,  Maud,  for  my  cat  and  bird  live  together  as 
happily  as  brother  and  sister,"  said  Polly,  turning  to 
Maud,  who  devoured  every  word  she  said. 

"That's  not  saying  much  for  them,"  muttered 
Tom,  feeling  that  Polly  ought  to  address  more  of  her 
conversation  to  him. 

"Polly  knows  what  she's  talking  about;  her 
brothers  appreciate  their  sisters,"  observed  Fanny, 
in  her  sharp  tone. 

"  And  Polly  appreciates  her  brothers,  don't  forget 
to  add  that,  ma'am,"  answered  Tom. 

"Did  I  tell  you  that  Will  was  going  to  college?" 
broke  in  Polly,  to  avert  the  rising  storm. 

"Hope  he'll  enjoy  himself,"  observed  Tom,  with 
the  air  of  a  man  who  had  passed  through  all  the  mys 
teries,  and  reached  that  state  of  sublime  indifference 
which  Juniors  seem  to  pride  themselves  upon. 

"  I  think  he  will,  he  is  so  fond  of  study,  and  is  so 
anxious  to  improve  every  opportunity.  I  only  hope 
he  won't  overwork  and  get  sick,  as  so  many  boys 
do,"  said  simple  Polly,  with  such  a  respectful  belief 
in  the  eager  thirst  for  knowledge  of  collegians  as  a 


156  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

class,  that  Tom  regarded  the  deluded  girl  with  a  smile 
of  lofty  pity,  from  the  heights  of  his  vast  and  varied 
experience. 

"  Guess  he  won't  hurt  himself.  I  '11  see  that  he 
don't  study  too  hard."  And  Tom's  eyes  twinkled  as 
they  used  to  do,  when  he  planned  his  boyish  pranks. 

"  I  'm  afraid  you  can't  be  trusted  as  a  guide,  if  va 
rious  rumors  I  Ve  heard  are  true,"  said  Polly,  looking 
up  at  him  with  a  wistful  expression,  that  caused  his 
face  to  assume  the  sobriety  of  an  owl's. 

"  Base  slanders  ;  I  'm  as  steady  as  a  clock,  an  orna 
ment  to  my  class,  and  a  model  young  man,  ain't  I, 
mother?"  And  Tom  patted  her  thin  cheek  with  a 
caressing  hand,  sure  of  one  firm  friend  in  her ;  for 
when  he  ceased  to  be  a  harum-scarum  boy,  Mrs.  Shaw 
began  to  take  great  pride  in  her  son,  and  he,  missing 
grandma,  tried  to  fill  her  place  with  his  feeble  mother. 

"  Yes,  dear,  you  are  all  I  could  ask,"  and  Mrs. 
Shaw  looked  up  at  him  with  such  affection  and  con 
fidence  in  her  eyes,  that  Polly  gave  Tom  the  first  ap 
proving  look  she  had  vouchsafed  him  since  she  came. 

Why  Tom  should  look  troubled  and  turn  grave  all 
at  once,  she  could  n't  understand,  but  she  liked  to  see 
him  stroke  his  mother's  cheek  so  softly,  as  he  stood 
with  his  head  resting  on  the  high  back  of  her  chair, 
for  Polly  fancied  that  he  felt  a  man's  pity  for  her 
weakness,  and  was  learning  a  son's  patient  love  for  a 
mother  who  had  had  much  to  bear  with  him. 

"  I  'm  so  glad  you  are  going  to  be  here  all  winter, 
for  we  are  to  be  very  gay,  and  I  shall  enjoy  taking 
you  round  with  me,"  began  Fanny,  forgetting  Polly's 
plan  for  a  moment. 


Six  Years   Afterward.  157 

Polly  shook  her  head  decidedly.  "  It  sounds  very 
nice,  but  it  can't  be  done,  Fan,  for  I  've  come  to  work, 
not  play ;  to  save,  not  spend  ;  and  parties  will  be  quite 
out  of  the  question  for  me." 

"  You  don't  intend  to  work  all  the  time,  without  a 
bit  of  fun,  I  hope,"  cried  Fanny,  dismayed  at  the  idea. 

"  I  mean  to  do  what  I  Ve  undertaken,  and  not  to  be 
tempted  away  from  my  purpose  by  anything.  I 
should  n't  be  fit  to  give  lessons  if  I  was  up  late,  should 
I  ?  And  how  far  would  my  earnings  go  towards  dress, 
carriages,  and  all  the  little  expenses  which  would  come 
if  I  set  up  for  a  young  lad}'  in  society  ?  I  can't  do 
both,  and  1  'm  not  going  to  try,  but  I  can  pick  up  bits 
of  fun  as  I  go  along,  and  be  contented  with  free  con 
certs  and  lectures,  seeing  you  pretty  often,  and  every 
Sunday  Will  is  to  spend  with  me,  so  I  shall  have  quite 
as  much  dissipation  as  is  good  for  me." 

"  If  you  don't  come  to  my  parties,  I  '11  never  for 
give  you,"  said  Fanny,  as  Polly  paused,  while  Tom 
chuckled  inwardly  at  the  idea  of  calling  visits  from  a 
brother  "  dissipation." 

•  "  Any  small  party,  where  it  will  do  to  wear  a  plain 
black  silk,  I  can  come  to  ;  but  the  big  ones  must  n't  be 
thought  of,  thank  you." 

It  was  charming  to  see  the  resolution  of  Polly's 
face  when  she  said  that ;  for  she  knew  her  weakness, 
and  beyond  that  black  silk  she  had  determined  not  to 
go.  Fanny  said  no  more,  for  she  felt  quite  sure  that 
Polly  would  relent  when  the  time  came,  and  she 
planned  to  give  her  a  pretty  dress  for  a  Christmas 
present,  so  that  one  excuse  should  be  removed. 

"  I  say,  Polly,  won't  you  give  some  of  us  fellows 


158          An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

music  lessons?  Somebody  wants  me  to  play,  and  I'd 
rather  learn  of  you  than  any  Senor  Twankydillo," 
said  Tom,  who  did  n't  find  the  conversation  interest 
ing. 

•4  Oh,  yes ;  if  any  of  you  boys  honestly  want  to 
learn,  and  will  behave  yourselves,  I  '11  take  you  ;  but 
I  shall  charge  extra,"  answered  Polly,  with  a  wicked 
sparkle  of  the  eye,  though  her  face  was  quite  sober, 
and  her  tone  delightfully  business-like, 

"  Why,  Polly,  Tom  is  n't  a  boy  ;  he 's  twenty,  and 
he  says  I  must  treat  him  with  respect.  Besides,  he 's 
engaged,  and  does  put  on  such  airs,"  broke  in  Maud, 
who  regarded  her  brother  as  a  venerable  being. 

"Who  is  the  little  girl?"  asked  Polly,  taking  the 
news  as  a  joke. 

"Trix;  why,  didn't  you  know  it?"  answered 
Maud,  as  if  it  had  been  an  event  of  national  import 
ance. 

"No!  is  it  true,  Fan?"  and  Polly  turned  to  her 
friend  with  a  face  full  of  surprise,  while  Tom  struck 
an  imposing  attitude,  and  affected  absence  of  mind. 

"  I  forgot  to  tell  you  in  my  last  letter ;  it 's  just  out, 
and  we  don't  like  it  very  well,"  observed  Fanny,  who 
would  have  preferred  to  be  engaged  first  herself. 

"  It's  a  very  nice  thing,  and  J  am  perfectly  satis 
fied,"  announced  Mrs.  Shaw,  rousing  from  a  slight 
doze. 

"  Polly  looks  as  if  she  did  n't  believe  it.  Have  ir't 
I  the  appearance  of  4  the  happiest  man  alive  ? ' "  asked 
Tom,  wondering  if  it  could  be  pity  which  he  saw  in 
the  steady  eyes  fixed  on  him. 

"  No,  I  don't  think  you  have,"  she  said,  slowly. 


Six  Years  Afterward.  159 

"  How  the  deuce  should  a  man  look,  then  ? "  cried 
Tom,  rather  nettled  at  her  sober  reception  of  the  grand 
news. 

"  As  if  he  had  learned  to  care  for  some  one  a  great 
deal  more  than  for  himself,"  answered  Polly,  with 
sudden  color  in  her  cheeks,  and  a  sudden  softening  of 
the  voice,  as  her  eyes  turned  away  from  Tom,  who  was 
the  picture  of  a  complacent  dandy,  from  the  topmost 
curl  of  his  auburn  head,  to  the  tips  of  his  aristocratic 
boots. 

"  Tommy  's  quenched  ;  I  agree  with  you  Polly ;  I 
never  liked  Trix,  and  I  hope  it 's  only  a  boy-and-girl 
fancy,  that  will  soon  die  a  natural  death,"  said  Mr. 
Shaw,  who  seemed  to  find  it  difficult  to  help  falling 
into  a  brown  study,  in  spite  of  the  lively  chatter 
going  on  about  him. 

Shaw,  Jr.,  being  highly  incensed  at  the  disrespect 
ful  manner  in  which  his  engagement  was  treated, 
tried  to  assume  a  superb  air  of  indifference,  and  find 
ing  that  a  decided  failure,  was  about  to  stroll  out  of 
the  room  with  a  comprehensive  nod,  when  his  mother 
called  after  him : 

14  Where  are  you  going,  dear?  " 
"  To  see  Trix,  of  course.     Good-by,  Polly,"   and 
Mr.   Thomas  departed,  hoping  that   by   the   skilful 
change   of   tone,  from  ardent  impatience   to  conde 
scending  coolness,  he  had  impressed  one  hearer  al 
least  with  the  fact  that  he  regarded  Trix  as  the  stai 
of  his  existence,  and  Polly  as  a  presuming  little  chit. 
If  he  could   have  heard   her  laugh,  and  Fanny's 
remarks,  his   wrath   would   have   boiled   over;    for 
tunately  he  was  spared  the  trial,  and  went  away  hop- 


160          An  Olct-Fashioned  Girl. 

ing  that  the  coquetries  of  his  Trix  would  make  him 
forget  Polly's  look  when  she  answered  his  question. 

"  My  dear,  that  boy  is  the  most  deluded  creature 
you  over  saw,"  began  Fanny,  as  soon  as  the  front 
door  banged.  "  Belle  and  Trix  both  tried  to  catch 
him,  and  the  slyest  got  him ;  for,  in  spite  of  his  airs, 
he  is  as  soft-hearted  as  a  baby.  You  see  Trix  has 
broken  off  two  engagements  ahead}7",  and  the  third 
time  she  got  jilted  herself.  Such  a  fuss  as  she  made  ! 
I  declare,  it  really  was  absurd.  But  I  do  think  she 
felt  it  very  much,  for  she  would  n't  go  out  at  all,  and 
got  thin,  and  pale,  and  blue,  and  was  really  quite 
touching.  I  pitied  her,  and  had  her  here  a  good  deal, 
and  Tom  took  her  part ;  he  always  does  stand  up  for 
the  crushed  ones,  and  that's  good  of  him,  I  allow. 
Well,  she  did  the  forsaken  very  prettily ;  let  Tom 
amuse  her,  and  led  him  on  till  the  poor  fellow  lost  his 
wits,  and  finding  her  crying  one  day  (about  her  hat, 
which  was  n't  becoming) ,  he  thought  she  was  mourn 
ing  fpr  Mr.  Banks,  and  so,  to  comfort  her,  the  goose 
proposed.  That  was  all  she  wanted ;  she  snapped 
him  up  at  once,  and  there  he  is  in  a  nice  scrape  ;  for 
since  her  engagement  she  is  as  gay  as  ever,  flirts 
awfully  with  any  one  who  comes  along,  and  keeps 
Tom  in  a  fume  all  the  time.  I  really  don't  think  he 
cares  for  her  half  as  much  as  he  makes  believe,  but 
he  '11  stand  by  her  through  thick  and  thin,  rather  than 
do  as  Banks  did." 

"  Poor  Tom  ! "  was  all  Polly  said,  when  Fan  had 
poured  the  story  into  her  ear,  as  they  sat  whispering 
in  the  sofa  corner. 

"  My  only  consolation  is  that  Trix  will  break  off 


Six  Years  Afterward.  161 

the  affair  before  spring ;  she  always  does,  so  that  she 
may  be  free  for  the  summer  campaign.  It  won't  hurt 
Tom,  but  I  hate  to  have  him  make  a  fool  of  himself 
out  of  pity,  for  he  is  more  of  a  man  than  he  seems, 
and  I  don't  want  any  one  to  plague  him." 

"  No  one  but  yourself,"  said  Polly,  smiling. 

"  Well,  that 's  all  fair  ;  he  is  a  torment  sometimes, 
but  I  'm  rather  fond  of  him  in  spite  of  it.  I  get  so 
tired  of  the  other  fellows,  they  are  such  absurd  things, 
and  when  Tom  is  in  his  good  mood  he  is  very  nice 
and  quite  refreshing." 

"  I  'm  glad  to  hear  it,"  said  Polly,  making  a -mental 
note  of  the  fact. 

"  Yes,  and  when  grandma  was  ill  he  was  perfectly 
devoted.  I  did  n't  know  the  boy  had  so  much  gentle 
ness  in  him.  He  took  her  death  sadly  to  heart,  for, 
though  he  did  n't  say  much,  he  was  very  grave  and 
steady  for  a  long  time.  I  tried  to  comfort  him,  and 
we  had  two  or  three  real  sweet  little  talks  together, 
and  seemed  to  get  acquainted  for  the  first  time.  It 
was  very  nice,  but  it  didn't  last;  good  times  never  do 
with  us.  We  soon  got  back  into  the  old  way,  and  now 
we  hector  one  another  just  as  before." 

Fanny  sighed,  then  yawned,  and  fell  into  her  usual 
listless  attitude,  as  if  the  brief  excitement  of  Polly's 
coming  had  begun  to  subside. 

"  Walk  home  with  me  and  see  my  funny  little  room. 
It 's  bright  now,  and  the  air  will  do  you  good.  Come, 
both  of  you,  and  have  a  frolic  as  we  used  to,"  said 
Polly,  for  the  red  sunset  now  burning  in  the  west 
seemed  to  invite  them  out. 

They  agreed,  and  soon  the  three  were  walking 
11 


1 62  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

briskly  away  to  Polly's  new  home,  in  a  quiet  street, 
where  a  few  old  trees  rustled  in  the  summer,  and  the 
morning  sun  shone  pleasantly  in  winter  time. 

"  The  way  into  my  parlor 
Is  up  a  winding  stair," 

sang  Polly,  running  up  two  flights  of  broad,  old- 
fashioned  steps,  and  opening  the  door  of  a  back  room, 
out  of  which  streamed  the  welcome  glow  of  firelight. 

"  These  are  my  pets,  Maud,"  she  added,  pausing 
on  the  threshold,  and  beckoning  the  girls  to  look  in 
quietly. 

On  the  rug,  luxuriously  basking  in  the  warmth,  lay 
a  gray  kitten,  and  close  by,  meditatively  roosting  on 
one  leg,  stood  a  plump  canary,  who  cocked  his  bright 
eye  at  the  new  comers,  gave  a  loud  chirp  as  if  to 
wake  his  comrade,  and  then  flew  straight  to  Polly's 
shoulder,  where  he  broke  into  a  joyful  song  to  wel 
come  his  mistress  home. 

"  Allow  me  to  introduce  my  family,"  said  Poll}7" ; 
"  this  noisy  little  chap  the  boys  named  Nicodemus ; 
and  this  dozy  cat  is  called  Ashputtel,  because  the  joy 
of  her  life  is  to  get  among  the  cinders.  Now,  take 
off  your  things,  and  let  me  do  the  honors,  for  you  are 
to  stop  to  tea,  and  the  carriage  is  to  come  for  you  at 
eight.  I  arranged  it  with  your  mother  while  you 
were  up  stairs." 

"  I  want  to  see  everything"  said  Maud,  when  the 
hats  were  off,  and  the  hands  warmed. 

"  So  you  shall ;  for  I  think  my  housekeeping  ar 
rangements  will  amuse  you." 

Then  Polly  showed  her  kingdom,  and  the  three  had 


Six  Years  Afterward.  163 

a  merry  time  over  it.  The  big  piano  took  up  so  much 
room  there  was  no  place  for  a  bed ;  but  Polly  proudly 
displayed  the  resources  of  her  chintz-covered  couch, 
for  the  back  let  down,  the  seat  lifted  up,  and  inside 
were  all  the  pillows  and  blankets.  "  So  convenient, 
you  see,  and  yet  out  of  the  way  in  the  daytime,  for 
two  or  three  of  my  pupils  come  to  me,"  explained 
Polly. 

Then  there  was  a  bright  drugget  over  the  faded 
carpet,  the  little  rocking-chair  and  sewing-table  stood 
at  one  window,  the  ivy  ran  all  over  the  other,  and  hid 
the  banqueting  performances  which  went  on  in  that 
corner.  Book-shelves  hung  over  the  sofa,  a  picture 
or  two  on  the  walls,  and  a  great  vase  of  autumn 
leaves  and  grasses  beautified  the  low  chimney-piece. 
It  was  a  very  humble  little  room,  but  Polly  had  done 
her  best  to  make  it  pleasant,  and  it  already  had  a 
home-like  look,  with  the  cheery  fire,  and  the  household 
pets  chirping  and  purring  confidingly  on  the  rug. 

"  How  nice  it  is ! "  exclaimed  Maud,  as  she 
emerged  from  the  big  closet  where  Polly  kept  her 
stores.  "  Such  a  cunning  teakettle  and  saucepan, 
and  a  tete-a-tete  set,  and  lots  of  good  things  to  eat. 
Do  have  toast  for  tea,  Polly,  and  let  me  make  it  with 
the  new  toasting  fork ;  it 's  such  fun  to  play  cook." 

Fanny  was  not  so  enthusiastic  as  her  sister,  for  her 
eyes  saw  many  traces  of  what  seemed  like  poverty  to 
her ;  but  Polly  was  so  gay,  so  satisfied  with  her  small 
establishment,  so  full  of  happy  hopes  and  plans,  that 
her  friend  had  not  the  heart  to  find  a  fault  or  suggest 
an  improvement,  and  sat  where  she  was  told,  laugh 
ing  and  talking  while  the  others  got  tea. 


164  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

•'  This  will  be  a  country  supper,  girls,"  said  Polly, 
bustling  about.  "  Here  is  real  cream,  brown  bread, 
home-made  cake,  and  honey  from  my  own  beehives. 
Mother  fitted  me  out  with  such  a  supply,  I  'm  glad 
to  have  a  part}-,  for  I  can't  eat  it  all  quick  enough. 
Butter  the  toast,  Maudie,  and  put  that  little  cover 
over  it.  Tell  me  when  the  kettle  boils,  and  don't  step 
on  Nicoderaus,  whatever  you  do." 

"  What  a  capital  house-keeper  you  will  make  some 
day,"  said  Fanny,  as  she  watched  Polly  spread  her 
table  with  a  neatness  and  despatch  which  was  pleasant 
to  behold. 

"  Yes,  it's  good  practice,"  laughed  Polly,  filling  her 
tiny  teapot,  and  taking  her  place  behind  the  tray, 
with  a  matronly  air,  which  was  the  best  joke  of  the 
whole. 

"  This  is  the  most  delicious  party  I  ever  went  to," 
observed  Maud,  with  her  mouth  full  of  honey,  when 
the  feast  was  well  under  way.  "  I  do  wish  I  could 
have  a  nice  room  like  this,  and  a  cat  and  a  bird  that 
wouldn't  eat  each  other  up,  and  a  dear  little  tea 
kettle,  and  make  just  as  much  toast  as  I  like." 

Such  a  peal  of  laughter  greeted  Maud's  pensive 
aspiration,  that  Miss  Mills  smiled  over  her  solitary 
cup  of  tea,  and  little  Nick  burst  into  a  perfect  ecstasy 
of  song,  as  he  sat  on  the  sugar-bowl  helping  nirn- 
self. 

tk  I  don't  care  for  the  toast  and  the  kettle,  but  I  do 
envy  jrou  your  good  spirits,  Polly,"  said  Fanny,  as 
the  merriment  subsided.  "  I  'm  so  tired  of  every 
body  and  everything,  it  seems  sometimes  as  if  I  should 
iie  of  ennui.  Don't  you  ever  ft  el  so  ?  " 


Six  Years  Afterward.  165 

"  Things  worry  me  sometimes,  but  I  just  catch  up 
a  broom  and  sweep,  or  wash  hard,  or  walk,  or  go  at 
something  with  all  my  might,  and  I  usually  find  that 
by  the  time  I  get  through  the  worry  is  gone,  or  I  've 
got  courage  enough  to  bear  it  without  grumbling," 
answered  Polly,  cutting  the  brown  loaf  energetically. 

"  I  can't  do  those  things,  you  know ;  there 's  no 
need  of  it,  and  I  don't  think  they  M  cure  my  worry 
ing,"  said  Fanny,  languidly  feeding  Ashputtel,  who 
sat  decorously  beside  her  at  the  table,  winking  at  the 
cream  pot. 

"  A  little  poverty  would  do  you  good,  Fan ;  just 
enough  necessity  to  keep  you  busy  till  you  find  how 
good  work  is ;  and  when  you  once  learn  that,  you 
won't  complain  of  ennui  any  more,"  returned  Polly, 
who  had  taken  kindly  the  hard  lesson  which  twenty 
3rears  of  cheerful  poverty  had  taught  her. 

"  Mercy,  no,  I  should  hate  that ;  but  I  wish  some 
one  would  invent  a  new  amusement  for  rich  people. 
I  'in  dead  sick  of  parties,  and  flirtations,  trying  to  out- 
dress  my  neighbors,  and  going  the  same  round  year 
after  year,  like  a  squirrel  in  a  cage." 

Fanny's  tone  was  bitter  as  well  as  discontented, 
her  face  sad  as  well  as  listless,  and  Polly  had  an  in 
stinctive  feeling  that  some  trouble,  more  real  than  any 
she  had  ever  known  before,  was  lying  heavy  at  her 
friend's  heart.  That  was  not  the  time  to  speak  of  it, 
but  Polly  resolved  to  stand  ready  to  offer  sympathy, 
if  nothing  more,  whenever  the  confidential  minute 
came  ;  and  her  manner  was  so  kind,  so  comfortable, 
that  Fanny  felt  its  silent  magic,  grew  more  cheerful 
In  the  quiet  atmosphere  of  that  little  room,  and  when 


1 66  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

they  said  good-night,  after  an  old-time  gossip  by  the 
fire,  she  kissed  her  hostess  warmly,  saying,  with  a 
grateful  look, — 

"  Polly,  dear,  I  shall  come  often,  you  do  me  so 
much  good." 


CHAPTER    IX. 

LESSONS. 

rjlHE  first  few  weeks  were  hard  ones,  for  Polly  had 
not  yet  outgrown  her  natural  shyness,  and  going 
among  so  many  strangers  caused  her  frequent  panics. 
But  her  purpose  gave  her  courage,  and  when  the  ice  was 
once  broken,  her  little  pupils  quickly  learned  to  love 
her.  The  novelty  soon  wore  off,  and  though  she  thought 
she  was  prepared  for  drudgery,  she  found  it  very 
tedious  to  go  on  doing  the  same  thing  day  after  day. 
Then  she  was  lonely,  for  Will  could  only  come  once  a 
week,  her  leisure  hours  were  Fanny's  busiest,  and  the 
"  bits  of  pleasure  "  were  so  few  and  far  between  that 
they  only  tantalized  her.  Even  her  small  housekeep 
ing  lost  its  charms,  for  Polly  was  a  social  creature, 
and  the  solitary  meals  were  often  sad  ones.  Ashput- 
tel  and  Nick  did  their  best  to  cheer  her,  but  they,  too, 
seemed  to  pine  for  country  freedom  and  home  atmos 
phere.  Poor  Puttel,  after  gazing  wistfully  out  of  the 
window  at  the  gaunt  city  cats  skulking  about  the  yard, 
would  retire  to  the  rug,  and  curl  herself  up  as  if  all 
hope  of  finding  congenial  society  had  failed  ;  while  lit 
tle  Nick  would  sing  till  he  vibrated  on  his  perch,  with 
out  recuving  any  response  except  an  inquisitive  chirp 


1 68  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl 

from  the  pert  sparrows,  who  seemed  to  twit  him  with 
his  captivity.  Yes,  by  the  time  the  little  teakettle 
had  lost  its  brightness,  Polly  had  decided  that  getting 
one's  living  was  no  joke,  and  many  of  her  brilliant 
hopes  had  shared  the  fate  of  the  little  kettle. 

If  one  could  only  make  the  sacrifice  all  at  once,  and 
done  with  it,  then  it  would  seem  easier ;  but  to  keep  up 
a  daily  sacrifice  of  one's  wishes,  tastes,  and  pleasures, 
is  rather  a  hard  task,  especially  when  one  is  pretty, 
young,  and  gay.  Lessons  all  day,  a  highly  instructive 
lecture,  books  over  a  solitary  fire,  or  music  with  no 
audience  but  a  sleepy  cat  and  a  bird  with  his  head 
tucked  under  his  wing,  for  evening  entertainment,  was 
not  exactly  what  might  be  called  festive  ;  so,  in  spite  of 
her  brave  resolutions,  Polly  did  long  for  a  little  fun 
sometimes,  and  after  saying  virtuously  to  herself  at 
nine  :  "  Yes,  it  is  much  wiser  and  better  for  me  to  go 
to  bed  early,  and  be  ready  for  work  to-morrow,"  she 
would  lie  awake  hearing  the  carriages  roll  to  and  fro, 
and  imagining  the  gay  girls  inside,  going  to  party, 
opera,  or  play,  till  Mrs.  Dodd's  hop  pillow  might 
as  well  have  been  stuffed  with  nettles,  for  any  sleep  it 
brought,  or  any  use  it  was,  except  to  catch  and  hide 
the  tears  that  dropped  on  it  when  Polly's  heart  was 
very  full. 

Another  thorn  that  wounded  our  Polly  in  her  first 
attempt  to  make  her  way  through  the  thicket  that 
always  bars  a  woman's  progress,  was  the  discovery  that 
working  for  a  living  shuts  a  good  many  doors  in  one's 
face  even  in  democratic  America.  As  Fanny's  guest 
she  had  been,  in  spite  of  poverty,  kindly  received  where 
ever  her  friend  took  her,  both  as  child  and  woman. 


Lessons.  169 

Now,  things  were  changed ;  the  kindly  people  patron 
ized,  the  careless  forgot  all  about  her,  and  even 
Fanny,  with  all  her  affection,  felt  that  Polly  the  music 
teacher  would  not  be  welcome  in  many  places  where 
Polly  the  young  lady  had  been  accepted  as  "  Miss 
Shaw's  friend." 

Some  of  the  girls  still  nodded  amiably,  but  never 
invited  her  to  visit  them ;  others  merely  dropped 
their  eyelids,  and  went  by  without  speaking,  while  a 
good  many  ignored  her  as  entirely  as  if  she  had  been 
invisible.  These  things  hurt  Polly  more  than  she 
would  confess,  for  at  home  every  one  worked,  and 
every  one  was  respected  for  it.  She  tried  not  to  care, 
but  girls  feel  little  slights  keenly,  and  more  than  once 
Polly  was  severely  tempted  to  give  up  her  plan,  and 
run  away  to  the  safe  shelter  at  home. 

Fanny  never  failed  to  ask  her  to  every  sort  of  fes 
tivity  in  the  Shaw  mansion ;  but  after  a  few  trials, 
Polly  firmly  declined  everything  but  informal  visits 
when  the  family  were  alone.  She  soon  found  that 
even  the  new  black  silk  was  n't  fine  enough  for  Fanny's 
smallest  party,  and,  after  receiving  a,  few  of  the 
expressive  glances  by  which  women  convey  their 
opinion  of  their  neighbor's  toilet,  and  overhearing 
a  joke  or  two  "  about  that  inevitable  dress,"  and  "  the 
little  blackbird,"  Polly  folded^,  away  the  once  treas 
ured  frock,  saying,  with  a  choke  in  her  voice  :  — 

"  I  '11  wear  it  for  Will,  he  likes  it,  and  clothes  can't 
change  his  love  for  me." 

I  am  afraid  the  wholesome  sweetness  of  Polly's  na 
ture  was  getting  a  little  soured  by  these  troubles  ;  but 
before-  lasting  harm  was  done,  she  received,  from  aa 


170  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

unexpected  source,  some  of  the  real  help  which  teaches 
young  people  how  to  bear  these  small  crosses,  by 
showing  them  the  heavier  ones  they  have  escaped,  and 
by  giving  them  an  idea  of  the  higher  pleasures  one 
may  earn  in  the  good  old-fashioned  ways  that  keep 
hearts  sweet,  heads  sane,  hands  busy. 

Everybody  has  their  days  of  misfortune  like  little 
Rosamond,  and  Polly  was  beginning  to  think  she  had 
more  than  her  share.  One  of  these  ended  in  a  way 
which  influenced  her  whole  life,  and  so  we  will  record 
it.  It  began  early ;  for  the  hard-hearted  little  grate 
would  n't  behave  itself  till  she  had  used  up  a  ruinous 
quantity  of  kindlings.  Then  she  scalded  poor  Puttel 
by  upsetting  her  coffee-pot ;  and  instead  of  a  leisurely, 
cosy  meal,  had  to  hurry  away  uncomfortably,  for 
everything  went  wrong  even  to  the  coming  off  of  both 
bonnet  strings  in  the  last  dreadful  scramble.  Being 
late,  she  of  course  forgot  her  music,  and  hurrying  back 
for  it,  fell  into  a  puddle,  which  capped  the  climax  of 
her  despair. 

Such  a  trying  morning  as  that  was  !  Polly  felt  out 
of  tune  herself,  and  all  the  pianos  seemed  to  need  a 
tuner  as  much  as  she  did.  The  pupils  were  unusually 
stupid,  and  two  of  them  announced  that  their  mamma 
was  going  to  take  them  to  the  South,  whither  she  was 
suddenly  called.  This  was  a  blow,  for  they  had  just 
begun,  and  Polly  had  n't"  the  face  to  send  in  a  bill 
for  a  whole  quarter,  though  her  plans  and  calculations 
were  sadly  disturbed  by  the  failure  of  that  sum. 

Trudging  home  to  dinner,  tired  and  disappointed, 
poor  Polly  received  another  blow,  which  hurt  her 
more  than  the  loss  of  all  her  pupils.  As  she  went  hur- 


Lessons.  171 

rying  along  with  a  big  music  book  in  one  hand  and  a  pa 
per  bag  of  rolls  for  tea  in  the  other,  she  saw  Tom  and 
Trix  coming.  As  she  watched  them  while  they  slowly 
approached,  looking  so  gay  and  handsome  and  happy,  it 
seemed  to  Polly  as  if  all  the  sunshine  and  good  walk 
ing  was  on  their  side  of  the  street,  all  the  wintry  wind 
and  mud  on  hers.  Longing  to  see  a  friendly  face  and 
receive  a  kind  word,  she  crossed  over,  meaning  to  nod 
and  smile  at  least.  Trix  saw  her  first,  and  suddenly 
became  absorbed  in  the  distant  horizon.  Tom  ap 
parently  did  not  see  her,  for  his  eyes  were  fixed  on  a 
fine  horse  just  prancing  by.  Polly  thought  that  he  had 
seen  her,  and  approached  with  a  curious  little  flutter 
at  her  heart,  for  if  Tom  cut  her  she  felt  that  her  cup 
would  be  full. 

On  they  came,  Trix  intent  on  the  view,  Tom 
staring  at  the  handsome  horse,  and  Polty,  with  red 
cheeks,  expectant  eyes,  and  the  brown  bundle,  in 
full  sight.  One  dreadful  minute  as  they  came  par 
allel,  and  no  one  spoke  or  bowed, —  then  it  was  all 
over,  and  Polly  went  on,  feeling  as  if  some  one  had 
slapped  her  in  the  face.  "  She  would  n't  have  be 
lieved  it  of  Tom ;  it  was  all  the  doings  of  that  horrid 
Trix  ;  well,  she  wouldn't  trouble  him  any  more,  if  he 
was  such  a  snob  as  to  be  ashamed  of  her  just  because 
she  carried  bundles  and  worked  for  her  bread."  She 
clutched  the  paper  bag  fiercety  as  she  said  this  to  her 
self,  then  her  eyes  filled,  and  her  lips  trembled,  as 
she  added,  "  How  could  he  do  it,  before  her,  too?" 

Now  Tom  was  quite  guiltless  of  this  offence,  and 
had  always  nodded  to  Polly  when  they  met ;  but  it  so 
happened  he  had  always  been  alone  till  now,  and  that 


172  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

was  why  it  cut  so  deeply,  especially  as  Polly  never 
had  approved  of  Trix.  Before  she  could  clear  her 
eyes  or  steady  her  face,  a  gentleman  met  her,  lifted 
his  hat,  smiled,  and  said  pleasantly,  — 

"  Good  morning,  Miss  Polly,  I  'm  glad  to  meet  you." 
Then,  with  a  sudden  change  of  voice  and  manner,  he 
added,  "  I  beg  pardon  —  is  anything  the  matter  —  can 
I  be  of  service  ?  " 

It  was  very  awkward,  but  it  could  n't  be  helped,  and 
all  Polly  could  do  was  to  tell  the  truth  and  make  the 
best  of  it. 

"  It 's  very  silly,  but  it  hurts  me  to  be  cut  by  my 
old  friends.  I  shall  get  used  to  it  presently,  I  dare 
say." 

Mr.  Sydney  glanced  back,  recognized  the  couple 
behind  them,  and  turned  round  with  a  disgusted  ex 
pression.  Polly  was  fumbling  for  her  handkerchief, 
and  without  a  word  he  took  both  book  and  bundle 
from  her,  a  little  bit  of  kindness  that  meant  a  good 
deal  just  then.  Polly  felt  it,  and  it  did  her  good ; 
hastily  wiping  the  traitorous  eyes,  she  laughed  and 
said  cheerfully,  — 

"  There,  I  'm  all  right  again ;  thank  you,  don't 
trouble  yourself  with  my  parcels." 

"  No  trouble,  I  assure  you,  and  this  book  reminds 
me  of  what  I  was  about  to  say.  Have  you  an  hour  to 
spare  for  my  little  niece?  Her  mother  wants  her 
to  begin,  and  desired  me  to  make  the  inquiry." 

"  Did  she,  really?"  and  Polly  looked  up  at  him,  as 
if  she  suspected  him  of  inventing  the  whole  thing,  out 
of  kindness. 

Mr.  Sydney  smiled,  and  taking  a  note  from  his 


Lessons.  173 

pocket,  presented  it,  saying,  with  a  reproachful 
look,  — 

"  Behold  the  proof  of  my  truth,  and  never  doubt 
again." 

Polly  begged  pardon,  read  the  note  from  the  little 
girl's  mother,  which  was  to  have  been  left  at  her  room 
if  she  was  absent,  and  gave  the  bearer  a  very  grateful 
look  as  she  accepted  this  welcome  addition  to  her  pu 
pils.  Well  pleased  at  the  success  of  his  mission,  Syd 
ney  artfully  led  the  conversation  to  music,  and  for  a 
time  Polly  forgot  her  woes,  talking  enthusiastically 
on  her  favorite  theme.  As  she  reclaimed  her  book 
and  bag,  at  her  own  door,  she  said,  in  her  honest  way, 

"  Thank  you  very  much  for  trying  to  make  me  for 
get  my  foolish  little  troubles." 

"  Then  let  me  say  one  thing  more  ;  though  appear 
ances  are  against  him,  I  don't  believe  Tom  Shaw  saw 
you.  Miss  Trix  is  equal  to  that  sort  of  thing,  but  it 
is  n't  like  Tom,  for  with  all  his  foppery  he  is  a  good 
fellow  at  heart." 

As  Mr.  Sydney  said  this,  Polly  held  out  her  hand 
with  a  hearty  u  Thank  you  for  that."  The  young 
man  shook  the  little  hand  in  the  gray  woollen  glove, 
gave  her  exactly  the  same  bow  which  he  did  the  Hon 
orable  Mrs.  Davenport,  and  went  away,  leaving  Polly 
to  walk  up  stairs  and  address  Puttel  with  the  peculiar 
remark,  — 

"  You  are  a  true  gentleman !  so  kind  to  say  that 
about  Tom.  I  '11  think  it 's  so,  any  way  ;  and  won't  I 
teach  Minnie  in  my  very  best  style  !  " 

Puttel  purred,  Nick  chirped  approvingly,  and  Polly 
ate  her  dinner  with  a  better  appetite  than  she  had 


174  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

expected.  But  at  the  bottom  of  her  heart  there  was 
a  sore  spot  still,  and  the  afternoon  lessons  dragged 
dismally.  It  was  dusk  when  she  got  home,  and  as 
she  sat  in  the  firelight  eating  her  bread  and  milk, 
several  tears  bedewed  the  little  rolls,  and  even  the 
home  honey  had  a  bitter  taste. 

"  Now  this  won't  do,"  she  broke  out  all  at  once ; 
"  this  is  silly  and  wicked,  and  can 't  be  allowed.  I  '11 
try  the  old  plan  and  put  myself  right  by  doing  some 
little  kindness  to  somebody.  Now  what  shall  it  be  ? 
O,  I  know  !  Fan  is  going  to  a  party  to  night ;  I  '11  run 
up  and  help  her  dress ;  she  likes  to  have  me,  and  I 
enjoy  seeing  the  pretty  things.  Yes,  and  I'll  take 
her  two  or  three  clusters  of  my  daphne,  it 's  so  sweet." 

Up  got  Polly,  and  taking  her  little  posy,  trotted 
uway  to  the  Shaw's,  determined  to  be  happy  and  con 
tented  in  spite  of  Trix  and  hard  work. 

She  found  Fanny  enduring  torment  under  the  hands 
of  the  hair-dresser,  who  was  doing  his  best  to  spoil 
her  hair,  and  distort  her  head  with  a  mass  of  curls, 
braids,  frizzles,  and  puffs  ;  for  though  I  discreetly  re 
frain  from  any  particular  description,  still,  judging 
from  the  present  fashions,  I  think  one  may  venture  to 
predict  that  six  years  hence  they  would  be  something 
frightful. 

"  How  kind  of  you,  Polly  ;  I  was  just  wishing  you 
were  here  to  arrange  my  flowers.  These  lovely 
daphnes  will  give  odor  to  my  camelias,  and  you  were 
a  dear  to  bring  them.  There 's  my  dress  ;  how  do  you 
like  "it?"  said  Fannj',  hardly  daring  to  lift  her  eyes 
from  under  the  yellow  tower  on  her  head. 

"  It 's  regularly  splendid ;  but  how  do  you  ever  get 


Lessons.  175 

into  it?"  answered  Polly,  surveying  with  girlish  in 
terest  the  cloud  of  pink  and  white  lace  that  lay  upon 
the  bed. 

"  It's  fearfully  and  wonderfully  made,  but  distract- 
ingly  becoming,  as  you  shall  see.  Trix  thinks  I'm 
going  to  wear  blue,  so  she  has  got  a  green  one,  and 
told  Belle  it  would  spoil  the  effect  of  mine,  as  we 
are  much  together,  of  course.  Was  n't  that  sweet  of 
her?  Belle  came  and  told  me  in  time,  and  I  just  got 
pink,  so  my  amiable  sister,  that  is  to  be,  won't  succeed 
in  her  pretty  little  plot." 

"  I  guess  she  has  been  reading  the  life  of  Josephine. 
You  know  she  made  a  pretty  lady,  of  whom  she  was 
jealous,  sit  beside  her  on  a  green  sofa,  which  set  off  her 
own  white  dress  and  spoilt  the  blue  one  of  her  guest," 
answered  Polly,  busy  with  the  flowers. 

"•  Trix  never  reads  anything ;  you  are  the  one  to 
pick  up  clever  little  stories.  I  '11  remember  and  use 
this  one.  Am  I  clone  ?  Yes,  that  is  charming,  is  n't 
it,  Polly?"  and  Fan  rose  to  inspect  the  success  of 
Monsieur's  long  labor. 

"  You  know  I  don't  appreciate  a  stylish  coiffure  as 
I  ought,  so  I  like  your  hair  in  the  old  way  best.  But 
this  is  4  the  thing,'  I  suppose,  and  not  a  word  must  be 
said." 

"  Of  course  it  is.  Why,  child,  I  have  frizzed  and 
burnt  my  hair  so  that  I  look  like  an  old  maniac  with 
it  in  its  natural  state,  and  have  to  repair  damages  as 
well  as  I  can.  Now  put  the  flowers  just  here,"  and 
Fanny  laid  a  pink  camelia  in  a  nest  of  fuz,  and  stuck 
a  spray  of  daphne  straight  up  at  the  back  of  her  head. 

"O.  Fan,  don't,  it  looks  horridly  so !  "  cried  Polly 


176  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

longing  to  add  a  little  beauty  to  her  friend's  sallow 
face  by  a  graceful  adjustment  of  the  flowers, 

"  Can't  help  it,  that's  the  way,  and  so  it  must  be," 
answered  Fan,  planting  another  sprig  half-way  up  tho 
tower. 

Polly  groaned,  and  offered  no  more  suggestions  as 
the  work  went  on ;  but  when  Fan  was  finished  from 
top  to  toe,  she  admired  all  she  honestly  could,  and 
tried  to  keep  her  thoughts  to  herself.  But  her  frank 
face  betrayed  her,  for  Fanny  turned  on  her  suddenly, 
saying,  — 

"  You  may  as  well  free  your  mind,  Polly,  for  I  see 
by  your  eyes  that  something  don't  suit." 

u  I  was  only  thinking  of  what  grandma  once  said, 
4  that  modesty  had  gone  out  of  fashion,' "  answered 
Polly,  glancing  at  the  waist  of  her  friend's  dress, 
which  consisted  of  a  belt,  a  bit  of  lace,  and  a  pair  of 
shoulder  straps. 

Fanny  laughed  good-naturedly,  saying,  as  she 
clasped  her  necklace,  "  If  I  had  such  shoulders  as 
yours,  I  shouldn't  care  what  the  fashion  was.  Now 
don't  preach,  but  put  my  cloak  on  nicely,  and  come 
along,  for  I  'm  to  meet  Tom  and  Trix,  and  promised 
to  be  there  early." 

£olly  was  to  be  left  at  home  after  depositing  Fan 
at  Belle's. 

"  I  feel  as  if  I  was  going  myself,"  she  said,  as  they 
rolled  along. 

"  I  wish  you  were,  and  you  would  be,  Polly,  if  you 
weren't  such  a  resolute  thing.  I've  teased,  and 
begged,  and  offered  anything  I  have  if  you  '11  only 
break  }Tour  absurd  vow,  and  come  and  enjoy  yourself." 


Lessons.  177 

u  Thank  you ;  but  I  won't,  so  don't  trouble  your 
I  lid  heart  about  me ;  I  'm  all  right,'*  said  Polly, 
stoutly. 

But  when  they  drew  up  before  the  lighted  house, 
and  she  found  herself  in  the  midst  of  the  pleasant  stir 
of  festivity,  ttie  coming  and  going  of  carriages,  the 
glimpses  of  bright  colors,  forms,  and  faces,  the  bursts 
of  music,  and  a  general  atmosphere  of  gayety,  Polly 
felt  that  she  was  n't  all  right,  and  as  she  drove  away 
for  a  dull  evening  in  her  lonely  little  room,  she  just 
cried  as  heartily  as  any  child  denied  a  stick  of  candy. 

"  It 's  dreadful  wicked  of  me,  but  I  can't  help  it," 
she  sobbed  to  herself,  in  the  corner  of  the  carriage. 
"  That  music  sets  me  all  in  a  twitter,  and  I  should 
have  looked  nice  in  Fan's  blue  tarlatan,  and  I  know 
I  could  behave  as  well  ^as  any  one,  and  have  lots 
of  partners,  though  I'm  not  in  that  set.  Oh, 
just  one  good  gallop  with  Mr.  Sydney  or  Tom ! 
No,  Tom  would  n't  ask  me  there,  and  I  would  n't 
accept  if  he  did.  Oh,  me !  oh,  me !  I  wish  I  was 
as  old  and  homely,  and  good  and  happy,  as  Miss 
Mills ! " 

So  Polly  made  her  moan,  and  by  the  time  she  got 
home,  was  just  in  the  mood  to  go  to  bed  and  cry  her 
self  to  sleep,  as  girls  have  a  way  of  doing  when  their 
small  afflictions  become  unbearable. 

But  Polly  did  n't  get  a  chance  to  be  miserable  very 
long,  for  as  she  went  up  stairs  feeling  like  the  most 
injured  girl  in  the  world,  she  caught  a  glimpse  of 
Miss  Mills,  sewing  away  with  such  a  bright  face  that 
she  could  n't  resist  stopping  for  a  word  or  two. 

"  Sit  down,  my  dear,  I  'm  glad  to  see  you,  but  ex- 
12 


178  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

cuse  me  if  I  go  on  with  my  work,  as  I  'm  in  a  driving 
hurry  to  get  these  things  done  to-night,"  said  the 
brisk  little  lady,  with  a  smile  and  a  nod,  as  she  took 
a  new  needleful  of  thread,  and  ran  up  a  seam  as  if 
for  a  wager. 

"  Let  me  help  you,  then  ;  I  'm  lazy  and  cross,  and 
it  will  do  me  good,"  said  Polly,  sitting  down  with  the 
resigned  feeling,  "  Well,  if  I  can't  be  happy,  I  can 
be  useful,  perhaps." 

"  Thank  you,  my  dear  ;  yes,  you  can  just  hem  the 
skirt  while  I  put  in  the  sleeves,  and  that  will  be  a 
great  lift." 

Polly  put  on  her  thimble  in  silence,  but  as  Miss 
Mills  spread  the  white  flannel  over  her  lap,  she  ex 
claimed,  "Why,  ^it  looks  like  a  shroud!  Is  it 
one?" 

"  No,  dear,  thank  God,  it  is  n't,  but  it  might  have 
been,  if  we  had  n't  saved  the  poor  little  soul,"  cried 
Miss  Mills,  with  a  sudden  brightening  of  the  face, 
which  made  it  beautiful  in  spite  of  the  stiif  gray  curi 
that  bobbed  on  each  temple,  the  want  of  teeth,  and  a 
crooked  nose. 

"Will  you  tell  me  about  it?  I  like  to  hear  your 
adventures  and  good  works  so  much,"  said  Polly, 
ready  to  be  amused  by  anything  that  made  her  forget 
herself. 

"  Ah,  my  dear,  it's  a  very  common  story,  and  that 's 
the  saddest  part  of  it.  I  '11  tell  you  all  about  it,  for 
I  think  you  may  be  able  to  help  me.  Last  night  I 
watched  with  poor  Mary  Floyd.  She  's  dying  of  con 
sumption,  you  know,"  began  Miss  Mills,  as  her  nimble 
fingers  flew,  and  her  kind  old  face  beamed  over  the 


Lessons.  1 79 

work,  as  if  she  put  a  blessing  in  with  every  stitch. 
"  Mary  was  very  low,  but  about  midnight  fell  asleep, 
and  I  was  trying  to  keep  things  quiet,  when  Mrs. 
Finn — she  ;s  the  woman  of  the  house  —  came  and 
beckoned  me  out,  with  a  scared  face.  4  Little  Jane 
has  killed  herself,  and  I  don't  know  what  to  do,*  she 
said,  leading  me  up  to  the  attic." 

"Who  was  little  Jane?"  broke  in  Polly,  dropping 
her  work. 

"  I  only  knew  her  as  a  pale,  shy  young  girl  who 
Tent  in  and  out,  and  seldom  spoke  to  any  one.  Mrs. 
Finn  told  me  she  was  poor,  but  a  busy,  honest,  little 
thing,  who  did  n't  mix  with  the  other  folks,  but  lived 
ind  worked  alone.  l  She  has  looked  so  down-hearted 
and  pale  for  a  week,  that  I  thought  she  was  sick,  and 
asked  her  about  it,'  said  Mrs.  Finn,  4  but  she  thanked 
me  in  her  bashful  way,  and  said  she  was  pretty  well, 
so  I  let  her  alone.  But  to-night,  as  I  went  up  late  to 
bed,  I  was  kind  of  impressed  to  look  in  and  see  how 
the  poor  thing  did,  for  she  had  n't  left  her  room  all 
day.  I  did  look  in,  and  here's  what  I  found.'  As 
Mrs.  Finn  ended,  she  opened  the  door  of  the  back 
attic,  and  I  saw  about  as  sad  a  sight  as  these  old  eyes 
ever  looked  at." 

"O,  what?"  cried  Polly,  pale  now  with  interest. 

"  A  bare  room,  cold  as  a  barn,  and  on  the  bed  a 
little  dead,  white  face  that  almost  broke  my  heart,  it 
was  so  thin,  so  patient,  and  so  young.  On  the  table 
was  a  bottle  half  full  of  laudanum,  an  old  pocket-book, 
and  a  letter.  Read  that,  my  dear,  and  don't  think 
hard  of  little  Jane." 


180  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

Polly  took  the  bit  of  paper  Mrs.  Mills  gave  her, 
and  read  these  words  :  — 

"  DEAR  MRS.  FINN  : 

"  Please  forgive  me  for  the  tro  ble  I  make  you,  but 
I  don't  see  any  other  way.  I  can't  get  work  that 
pays  enough  to  keep  me  ;  the  Dr.  says  I  can't  be  well 
unless  I  rest.  I  hate  to  be  a  -burden,  so  I  'm  going 
away  not  to  trouble  anybody  any  more.  I've  sold 
my  things  to  pay  what  I  owe  you.  Please  let  me  be 
as  I  am,  and  don't  let  people  come  and  look  at  me. 
I  hope  it  is  n't  very  wicked,  but  there  don't  seem  any 
room  for  me .  in  the  world,  and  I  'm  not  afraid  to  die 
now,  though  I  should  be  if  I  stayed  and  got  bad  be 
cause  I  had  n't  strength  to  keep  right.  Give  my  love 
U  the  baby,  and  so  good-by,  good-b}7. 

JANE  BRYANT/' 

"0,  Miss  Mills,  how  dreadful !"  cried  Polly,  with 
her  eyes  so  full  she  could  hardly  read  the  little  letter. 

41  Not  so  dreadful  as  it  might  have  been,  but  a  bit 
ter,  rjad  thing  to  see  that  child,  only  seventeen,  lying 
there  in  her  little  clean,  old  night-gown,  waiting  for 
death  to  come  and  take  her,  because  4  there  did  n't 
seem  to  be  any  room  for  her  in  the  world/  Ah,  well, 
we  saved  her,  for  it  was  n't  too  late,  thank  heaven ; 
and  the  first  thing  she  said  was,  l  Oh,  why  did  you 
bring  me  back?'  I've  boen  nursing  her  all  day, 
hearing  her  story,  and  trying  to  show  her  that  there 
is  room  and  a  welcome  for  her.  Her  mother  died  a 
year  ago,  and  since  then  she  has  been  struggling  along 
alone.  She  is  one  of  the  timid,  innocent,  humble 


Lessons.  181 

creatures  who  can't  push  their  way,  and  so  get  put 
aside  and  forgotten.  She  has  tried  all  sorts  of  poorly 
paid  work,  could  n't  live  on  it  decently,  got  dis 
couraged,  sick,  frightened,  and  could  see  no  refuge 
from  the  big,  bad  world  but  to  get  out  of  it  while  she 
was  n't  afraid  to  die.  A  very  old  story,  my  dear, 
new  and  dreadful  as  it  seems  to  you,  and  I  think  it 
won't  do  you  any  harm  to  see  and  help  this  little  girl, 
who  has  gone  through  dark  places  that  you  are  never 
like  to  know." 

"  I  will ;  indeed,  I  will  do  all  I  can  !  Where  is  she 
now  ?  "  asked  Polly,  touched  to  the  heart  by  the  story, 
so  simple  yet  so  sad. 

"  There,"  and  Miss  Mills  pointed  to  the  door  of  her 
own  little  bedroom.  "  She  was  well  enough  to  be 
moved  to-night,  so  I  brought  her  home  and  laid  her 
safely  in  my  bed.  Poor  little  soul !  she  looked  about 
her  for  a  minute,  then  the  lost  look  went  away,  and  she 
gave  a  great  sigh,  and  took  my  hand  in  both  her  thin 
bits  of  ones,  and  said, '  O,  ma'am,  I  feel  as  if  I  'd  been 
born  into  a  new  world.  Help  me  to  begin  again,  and 
I  '11  do  better.'  So  I  told  her  she  was  my  child  now,  and 
might  rest  here,  sure  of  a  home  as  long  as  I  had  one." 

As  Miss  Mills  spoke  in  her  motherly  tone,  and  cast 
a  proud  and  happy  look  toward  the  warm  and  quiet 
nest  in  which  she  had  sheltered  this  friendless  little 
sparrow,  feeling  sure  that  God  meant  her  to  keep  it 
from  falling  to  the  ground,  Polly  put  both  arms  about 
her  neck,  and  kissed  her  withered  cheek  with  as  much 
loving  reverence  as  if  she  had  been  a  splendid  saint, 
for  in  the  likeness  of  this  plain  old  maid  she  saw  the 
lovely  charity  that  blesses  and  saves  the  world. 


1 82  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

"  How  good  you  are  !  Dear  Miss  Mills,  tell  ine 
what  to  do,  let  me  help  you,  I  'm  ready  for  anything," 
said  Polly,  very  humbly,  for  her  own  troubles  looked 
so  small  and  foolish  beside  the  stern  hardships  which 
had  nearly  had  so  tragical  an  end,  that  she  felt  heart 
ily  ashamed  of  herself,  and  quite  burned  to  atone  for 
them. 

Miss  Mills  stopped  to  stroke  the  fresh  cheek  oppo 
site,  to  smile,  and  say,  — 

"Then,  Polly,  I  think  I'll  ask  you  to  go  in  and 
say  a  friendly  word  to  my  little  girl.  The  sight  of 
you  will  do  her  good ;  and  you  have  just  the  right 
way  of  comforting  people,  without  making  a  fuss." 

"Havel?"  said  Polly,  looking  much  gratified  by 
the  words. 

"Yes,  dear,  you've  the  gift  of  sympathy,  and  the 
rare  art  of  showing  it  without  offending.  I  would  n't 
let  many  girls  in  to  see  my  poor  Jenny,  because 
they  'd  only  flutter  and  worry  her ;  but  you  '11  know 
what  to  do  ;  so  go,  and  take  this  wrapper  with  you  ; 
it 's  done  now,  thanks  to  your  nimble  fingers." 

Polly  threw  the  warm  garment  over  her  arm,  feel 
ing  a  thrill  of  gratitude  that  it  was  to  wrap  a  living 
girl  in,  and  not  to  hide  away  a  young  heart  that  had 
grown  cold  too  soon.  Pushing  open  the  door,  she 
went  quietly  into  the  dimty  lighted  room,  and  on  the 
pillow  saw  a  face  that  drew  her  to  it  with  an  irresist 
ible  power,  for  it  was  touched  by  a  solemn  shadow 
that  made  its  youth  pathetic.  As  she  paused  at  the 
bedside,  thinking  the  girl  asleep,  a  pair  of  hollow, 
dark  eyes  opened  wide,  and  looked  up  at  her ;  startled 
at  first,  then  softening  with  pleasure,  at  sight  of  the 


Lessons.  183 

bonny  face  before  them,  and  then  a  humble,  beseech 
ing  expression  filled  them,  as  if  asking  pardon  for  the 
rash  act  nearly  committed,  and  pity  for  the  hard  fate 
that  prompted  it.  Polly  read  the  language  of  these 
63^68,  and  answered  their  mute  prayer  with  a  simple 
eloquence  that  said  more  than  any  words,  for  she  just 
stooped  down  and  kissed  the  poor  child,  with  her  own 
eyes  full,  and  lips  that  trembled  with  the  sympathy 
she  could  not  tell.  Jenny  put  both  arms  about  her 
neck,  and  began  to  shed  the  quiet  tears  that  so  re 
fresh  and  comfort  heavy  hearts  when  a  tender  touch 
unseals  the  fountain  where  they  lie. 

"  Everybody  is  so  kind,"  she  sobbed,  "  and  I  was 
so  wicked,  I  don't  deserve  it." 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  do  ;  don't  think  of  that,  but  rest  and 
let  us  pet  you.  The  old  life  was  too  hard  for  such  a 
little  thing  as  you,  and  we  are  going  to  try  and  make 
the  new  one  ever  so  much  easier  and  happier,"  said 
Polly,  forgetting  everything  except  that  this  was  a 
girl  like  herself,  who  needed  heartening  up. 

"  Do  you  live  here  ?  "  asked  Jenny,  when  her  tears 
were  wiped  away,  still  clinging  to  the  new-found 
friend. 

"  Yes,  Miss  Mills  lets  me  have  a  little  room  up  stairs, 
and  there  I  have  my  cat  and  bird,  my  piano  and  my 
posy  pots,  and  live  like  a  queen.  You  must  come  up 
and  see  me  to-morrow  if  you  are  able.  I'm  often 
lonely,  for  there  are  no  young  people  in  the  house  to 
play  with  me,"  answered  Polly,  smiling  hospitably. 

"  Do  j'ou  sew  ?  "  asked  Jenny. 

"  No,  I  'in  a  music  teacher,  and  trot  round  giving 
lessons  all  day." 


184  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

"  How  beautiful  it  sounds,  and  how  happy  you 
must  be,  so  strong  and  pretty,  and  able  to  go  round 
making  music  all  the  time,"  sighed  Jenny,  looking 
with  respectful  admiration  at  the  plump,  firm  hand 
held  in  both  her  thin  and  feeble  ones. 

It  did  sound  pleasant  even  to  Polly's  ears,  and  she 
felt  suddenly  so  rich,  and  so  contented,  that  she 
seemed  a  different  creature  from  the  silly  girl  who 
cried  because  she  could  n't  go  to  the  party.  It 
passed  through  her  mind  like  a  flash,  the  contrast 
between  her  life,  and  that  of  the  wan  •  creature  lying 
before  her,  and  she  felt  as  if  she  could  not  give 
enough  out  of  her  abundance  to  this  needy  little 
sister,  who  had  nothing  in  the  wide  world  but  the 
.'ife  just  saved  to  her.  That  minute  did  more  for 
Polly  than  many  sermons,  or  the  wisest  books,  for  it 
brought  her  face  to  face  with  bitter  truths,  showed 
her  the  dark  side  of  life,  and  seemed  to  blow  away 
her  little  vanities,  her  frivolous  desires,  like  a  wintry 
wind,  that  left  a  wholesome  atmosphere  behind.  Sit 
ting  on  the  bedside,  Polly  listened  while  Jane  told  the 
story,  which  was  so  new  to  her  listener,  that  every 
word  sank  deep  into  her  heart,  and  never  was  for 
gotten. 

"  Now  you  must  go  to  sleep.  Don't  cry  nor  think, 
nor  do  anything  but  rest.  That  will  please  Miss 
Mills  best.  I  '11  leave  the  doors  open,  and  play  you  a 
lullaby  that  you  can't  resist.  Good  night,  dear." 
And  with  another  kiss,  Polly  went  away  to  sit  in  the 
darkness  of  her  own  room,  playing  her  softest  airs 
till  the  tired  eyes  below  were  shut,  and  little  Jane 
seemed  to  float  away  on  a  sea  of  pleasant  sounds, 


Lessons.  185 

into  the  happier  life  which  had  just  dawned  for 
her. 

Polly  had  fully  intended  to  be  very  miserable,  and 
cry  herself  to  sleep  ;  but  when  she  lay  down  at  last,  her 
pillow  seemed  very  soft,  her  little  room  very  lovely, 
with  the  fire-light  flickering  on  all  the  home-like  ob 
jects,  and  her  new-blown  roses  breathing  her  a  sweet 
good-night.  She  no  longer  felt  an  injured,  hard-work 
ing,  unhappy  Polly,  but  as  if  quite  burdened  with 
blessings,  for  which  she  was  n't  half  grateful  enough. 
She  had  heard  of  poverty  and  suffering,  in  the  vague, 
far-off  way,  which  is  all  that  many  girls,  safe  in  happy 
homes,  ever  know  of  it ;  but  now  she  had  seen  it,  in  a 
shape  which  she  could  feel  and  understand,  and  life 
grew  more  earnest  to  her  from  that  minute.  So  much 
to  do  in  the  great,  busy  world,  and  she  had  done  so 
little.  Where  should  she  begin ?  Then,  like  an  an 
swer  came  little  Jenny's  words,  now  taking  a  new  sig 
nificance  to  Polly's  mind,  "  To  be  strong,  and  beauti 
ful,  and  go  round  making  music  all  the  time."  Yes, 
Bhe  could  do  that ;  and  with  a  very  earnest  prayer, 
Polly  asked  for  the  strength  of  an  upright  soul,  the 
beauty  of  a  tender  heart,  the  power  to  make  her  life  a 
sweet  and  stirring  song,  helpful  while  it  lasted,  re 
membered  when  it  died. 

Little  Jane's  last  thought  had  been  to  wish  with  all 
her  might,  tliat  "  God  would  bless  the  dear,  kind  girl 
up  there,  and  give  her  all  she  asked."  I  think  both 
prayers,  although  too  humble  to  be  put  in  words,  went 
up  together,  for  in  the  fulness  of  time  they  were  beau 
tifully  answered. 


CHAPTER    X. 

BROTHERS  AND   SISTERS. 

TROLLY'S  happiest  day  was  Sunday,  for  Will  never 
•*-  failed  to  spend  it  with  her.  Instead  of  sleeping 
later  than  usual  that  morning,  she  was  always  up  bright 
and  early,  flying  round  to  get  ready  for  her  guest,  for 
Will  came  to  breakfast,  and  they  made  a  long  day  of  it. 
Will  considered  his  sister  the  best  and  prettiest  girl 
going,  and  Polly,  knowing  well  that  a  time  would 
come  when  he  would  find  a  better  and  a  prettier,  was 
grateful  for  his  good  opinion,  and  tried  to  deserve  it. 
So  she  made  her  room  and  herself  as  neat  and  inviting 
as  possible,  and  always  ran  to  meet  him  with  a  bright 
face  and  a  motherly  greeting,  when  he  came  tramping 
in,  ruddy,  brisk  and  beaming,  with  the  brown  loaf  and 
the  little  pot  of  beans  from  the  bake-house  near  by. 
They  liked  a  good  country  breakfast,  and  nothing 
gave  Polly  more  satisfaction  than  to  see  her  big  boy 
clear  the  dishes,  empty  the  little  coffee-pot,  and  then  sit 
and  laugh  at  her  across  the  ravaged  table.  Another 
pleasure  was  to  let  him  help  clear  away,  as  they  used 
to  do  at  home,  while  the  peals  of  laughter  that  always 
accompanied  this  performance  did  Miss  Mills'  heart 
good  to  hear,  for  the  room  was  so  small  and  Will  so 


Brothers  and  Sisters.  187 

big  that  he  seemed  to  be  everywhere  at  once,  and 
Polly  and  Puttel  were  continually  dodging  his  long 
arms  and  legs.  Then  they  used  to  inspect  the  flower 
pots,  pay  Nick  a  visit,  and  have  a  little  music  as  a 
good  beginning  for  the  day,  after  which  they  went  to 
church  and  dined  with  Miss  Mills,  who  considered  Will 
44  an  excellent  young  man."  If  the  afternoon  was  fair, 
they  took  a  long  walk  together  over  the  bridges  into 
the  country,  or  about  the  city  streets  full  of  Sabbath 
quietude.  Most  people  meeting  them  would  have 
seen  only  an  awkward  young  man,  with  a  boy's  face 
atop  of  his  tall  bocty,  and  a  quietly  dressed,  fresh- 
fuced  little  woman  hanging  on  his  arm;  but  a  few 
people,  with  eyes  to  read  romances  and  pleasant  his 
tories  everywhere,  found  something  very  attractive  in 
this  couple,  and  smiled  as  they  passed,  wondering  if 
they  were  young  lovers,  or  country  cousins  "  looking 
round." 

If  the  day  was  stormy,  they  stayed  at  home,  read 
ing,  writing  letters,  talking  over  their  affairs,  and  giv 
ing  each  other  good  advice ;  for,  though  Will  was 
nearly  three  years  younger  than  Polly,  he  couldn't 
for  the  life  of  him  help  assuming  amusingly  venera 
ble  airs,  when  he  became  a  Freshman.  In  the  twi 
light  he  had  a  good  lounge  on  the  sofa,  and  Polly  sung 
to  him,  which  arrangement  he  particularly  enjoyed,  it 
was  so  "  cosy  and  homey."  At  nine  o'clock,  Polly 
packed  his  bag  with  clean  clothes,  nicely  mended, 
Biich  remnants  of  the  festive  tea  as  were  transporta 
ble,  and  kissed  him  "  good-night,"  with  many  injunc 
tions  to  muffle  up  his  throat  going  over  the  bridge, 
and  be  sure  that  his  feet  were  dry  and  warm  when  he 


1 88  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

went  to  bed.  All  of  which  Will  laughed  at,  accepted 
graciously,  and  did  n't  obey ;  but  he  liked  it,  and 
trudged  away  for  another  week's  work,  rested,  cheered 
and  strengthened  by  that  quiet,  happy  day  with  Polly, 
for  he  had  been  brought  up  to  believe  in  home  influ 
ences,  and  this  brother  and  sister  loved  one  another 
dearly,  and  were  not  ashamed  to  own  it. 

One  other  person  enjoyed  the  humble  pleasures  of 
these  Sundays  quite  as  much  as  Polly  and  Will. 
Maud  used  to  beg  to  come  to  tea,  and  Polly,  glad  to 
do  anything  for  those  who  had  done  a  good  deal  for 
her,  made  a  point  of  calling  for  the  little  girl  as  they 
came  home  from  their  walk,  or  sending  Will  to  escort 
her  in  the  carriage,  which  Maud  always  managed  to 
secure  if  bad  weather  threatened  to  quench  her  hopes. 
Tom  and  Fanny  laughed  at  her  fancy,  but  she  did  not 
tire  of  it,  for  the  child  was  lonely,  and  found  some 
thing  in  that  little  room  which  the  great  house  could 
not  give  her. 

Maud  was  twelve  now ;  a  pale,  plain  child,  with 
sharp,  intelligent  eyes,  and  a  busy  little  mind,  that 
did  a  good  deal  more  thinking  than  anybody  imagined. 
She  was  just  at  the  unattractive,  fidgety  age  when 
no  one  knew  what  to  do  with  her,  and  so  let  her 
fumble  her  way  up  as  she  could,  finding  pleasure  in 
odd  things,  and  living  much  alone,  for  she  did  not  go 
to  school,  because  her  shoulders  were  growing  round, 
and  Mrs.  Shaw  would  not  u  allow  her  figure  to  be 
spoiled."  That  suited  Maud  excellently ;  and  when 
ever  her  father  spoke  of  sending  her  again,  or  getting 
a  governess,  she  was  seized  with  bad  headaches,  a 
pain  in  her  back,  or  weakness  of  the  eyes,  at  which 


Brothers  and  Sisters.  189 

Mr.  Shaw  laughed,  but  let  her  holiday  go  on.  No 
body  seemed  to  care  much  for  plain,  pug-nosed  little 
Maudie  ;  her  father  was  busy,  her  mother  nervous  and 
sick,  Fanny  absorbed  in  her  own  affairs,  and  Tom  re 
garded  her  as  most  young  men  do  their  younger 
sisters,  as  a  person  born  for  his  amusement  and  con 
venience,  nothing  more.  Maud  admired  Tom  with  all 
her  heart,  and  made  a  little  slave  of  herself  to  him, 
feeling  well  repaid  if  he  merely  said,  "  Thank  you, 
chicken,"  or  did  n't  pinch  her  nose,  or  nip  her  ear,  as 
he  had  a  way  of  doing,  "  Just  as  if  I  was  a  doll,  or  a 
dog,  and  hadn't  got  any  feelings,"  she  sometimes 
said  to  Fanny,  when  some  service  or  sacrifice  had 
been  accepted  without  gratitude  or  respect.  It  never 
occurred  to  Tom,  when  Maud  sat  watching  him  with 
her  fjace  full  of  wistfulness,  that  she  wanted  to  be 
petted  as  much  as  ever  he  did  in  his  neglected  boy 
hood,  or  that  when  he  called  her  "  Pug "  before 
people,  her  little  feelings  were  as  deeply  wounded 
as  his  used  to  be,  when  the  boys  called  him  "  Car 
rots."  He  was  fond  of  her  in  his  fashion,  but  he 
did  n't  take  the  trouble  to  show  it,  so  Maud  wor 
shipped  him  afar  off,  afraid  to  betray  the  affection 
that  no  rebuff  could  kill  or  cool. 

One  snowy  Sunday  afternoon  Tom  lay  on  the  sofa 
in  his  favorite  attitude,  reading  "  Pendennis  "  for  the 
fourth  time,  and  smoking  like  a  chimney  as  he  did  so. 
Maud  stood  at  the  window  watching  the  falling  flakes 
with  an  anxious  countenance,  and  presently  a  great 
sigh  broke  from  her. 

"  Don't  do  that  again,  chicken,  or  you  '11  blow  me 
away.  What's  the  matter?"  asked  Tom,  throwing 


190  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

down  his  book  with  a  yawn  that  threatened  disloca 
tion. 

"  I  'm  afraid  I  can't  go  to  Polly's/'  answered  Maud, 
disconsolately. 

"  Of  course  you  can't ;  it 's  snowing  hard,  and 
father  won't  be  home  with  the  carriage  till  this  even 
ing.  What  are  you  always  cutting  off  to  Polly's 
for?" 

"  I  like  it ;  we  have  such  nice  times,  and  "Will  is 
;here,  and  we,  bake  little  johnny-cakes  in  the  baker  be 
fore  the  fire,  and  they  sing,  and  it  is  so  pleasant." 

"  Warbling  johnny-cakes  must  be  interesting.  Come 
and  tell  me  all  about  it." 

"  No,  you  '11  only  laugh  at  me." 

"  I  give  you  my  word  I  won't,  if  I  can  help  it ;  but 
I  really  am  dying  of  curiosity  to  know  what  you  do 
down  there.  You  like  to  hear  secrets,  so  tell  me 
yours,  and  I  '11  be  as  dumb  as  an  oyster." 

"It  is  n't  a  secret,  and  you  would  n't  care  for  it. 
Do  you  want  another  pillow?"  she  added,  as  Tom 
gave  his  a  thump. 

"  This  will  do  ;  but  why  you  women  always  stick 
tassels  and  fringe  all  over  a  sofa-cushion,  to  tease  and 
tickle  a  fellow,  is  what  I  don't  understand." 

"  One  thing  that  Polly  does  Sunday  nights,  is  to  take 
Will's  head  in  her  lap,  and  smooth  his  forehead.  It 
rests  him  after  studying  so  hard,  she  says.  If  you 
don't  like  the  pillow,  I  could  do  that  for  you,  'cause 
you  look  as  if  you  were  more  tired  of  studying  than 
Will,"  said  Maud,  with  some  hesitation,  but  an  evi 
dent  desire  to  be  useful  and  agreeable. 

"  Well,  I  don't  care  if  you  do  try  it,  for  I  am  con- 


Brothers  and  Sisters.  191 

foundedly  tired."  And  Tom  laughed,  as  he  recalled 
the  frolic  he  had  been  on  the  night  before. 

Maud  established  herself  with  great  satisfaction, 
and  Torn  owned  that  a  silk  apron  was  nicer  than  a 
fuzzy  cushion. 

"  Do  you  like  it?"  she  asked,  after  a  few  strokes 
over  the  hot  forehead,  which  she  thought  was  fevered 
by  intense  application  to  Greek  and  Latin. 

"  Not  bad  ;  play  away,"  was  the  gracious  reply,  as 
Tom  shut  his  eyes,  and  lay  so  still  that  Maud  was 
charmed  at  the  success  of  her  attempt.  Presently, 
she  said,  softly, — 

"  Tom,  are  you  asleep?" 

"  Just  turning  the  corner." 

44  Before  you  get  quite  round  would  you  please  tell 
me  what  a  Public  Admonition  is  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  want  to  know  for  ?  "  demanded  Tom, 
opening  his  eyes  very  wide. 

44 1  heard  Will  talking  about  Publics  and  Privates, 
and  I  meant  to  ask  him,  but  I  forgot." 

"What  did  he  say?" 

"  I  don't  remember  ;  it  was  about  somebody  who  cut 
prayers,  and  got  a  Private,  and  had  done  all  sorts  of 
bad  things,  and  had  one  or  two  Publics.  I  did  n't 
hear  the  name  and  did  n't  care  ;  I  only  wanted  to  know 
what  the  words  meant." 

"  So  Will  tells  tales,  does  he  ? "  and  Tom's  fore 
head  wrinkled  with  a  frown. 

44  No  he  did  n't ;  Polly  knew  about  it  and  asked  him.* 

"  Will 's  a  4  dig/  "  growled  Tom,  shutting  his  eyes 
again,  as  if  nothing  more  could  be  said  of  the  delin 
quent  William. 


1 92  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

"  I  don't  (mre  if  he  is  ;  I  like  him  very  much,  and 
so  does  Polly." 

"  Happy  Fresh  !  "  said  Tom,  with  a  comical  groan. 

"  You  need  n't  sniff  at  him,  for  he  is  nice,  and  treats 
me  with  respect,"  cried  Maud,  with  an  energy  that 
made  Tom  laugh  in  her  face. 

"  He  's  good  to  Polly  always,  and  puts  on  her  cloak 
for  her,  and  says  '  my  dear/  and  kisses  her  '  good 
night/  and  don't  think  it 's  silly,  and  I  wish  I  had  a 
brother  just  like  him,  yes,  I  do  ! "  And  Maud  showed 
signs  of  woe,  for  her  disappointment  about  going  was 
very  great. 

"Bless  my  boots!  what's  the  chicken  ruffling  up 
her  little  feathers  and  pecking  at  me  for  ?  Is  that  the 
way  Polly  soothes  the  best  of  brothers  ?  "  said  Tom, 
still  laughing. 

"  Oh,  I  forgot !  there,  I  won't  cry ;  but  I  do  want 
to  go,"  and  Maud  swallowed  her  tears,  and  began  to 
stroke  again. 

Now  Tom's  horse  and  sleigh  were  in  the  stable,  for 
he  meant  to  drive  out  to  College  that  evening,  but  he 
did  n't  take  Maud's  hint.  It  was  less  trouble  to  lie 
still,  and  say  in  a  conciliatory  tone,  — 

"  Tell  me  some  more  about  this  good  boy,  it 's  very 
interesting." 

"  No,  I  shan't,  but  I  '11  tell  about  Puttel's  playing 
on  the  piano,"  said  Maud,  anxious  to  efface  the 
memory  of  her  momentary  weakness.  "  Polly  points 
to  the  right  key  with  a  little  stick,  and  Puttel  sits  on 
the  stool  and  pats  each  key  as  it 's  touched,  and  it 
makes  a  tune.  It 's  so  funny  to  see  her,  and  Nick 
perches  on  the  rack  and  sings  as  if  he  'd  kill  himself." 


BrotJwrs  and  Sisters.  193 

"  Very  thrilling,"  said  Torn,  in  a  sleepy  tone. 

Maud  felt  that  her  conversation  was  not  as  inter 
esting  as  she  hoped,  and  tried  again. 

"  Polly  thinks  you  are  handsomer  than  Mr.  Sydney." 

44  Much  obliged." 

44 1  asked  which  she  thought  had  the  nicest  face, 
and  she  said  yours  was  the  handsomest,  and  his  the 
best." 

44  Does  he  ever  go  there?"  asked  a  sharp  voice  be 
hind  them ;  and  looking  round  Maud  saw  Fanny  in 
the  big  chair,  cooking  her  feet  over  the  register. 

44 1  never  saw  him  there ;  he  sent  up  some  books 
one  day,  and  Will  teased  her  about  it." 

4t  What  did  she  do?"  demanded  Fanny. 

4'  Oh,  she  shook  him." 

44  What  a  spectacle ! "  and  Tom  looked  as  if  he 
would  have  enjoyed  seeing  it,  but  Fanny's  face  grew 
so  forbidding,  that  Tom's  little  dog,  who  was  ap 
proaching  to  welcome  her,  put  his  tail  between  his 
legs  and  fled  under  the  table. 

44  Then  there  is  n't  any  4  Sparking  Sunday  night'?" 
sung  Tom,  who  appeared  to  have  waked  up  again. 

44  Of 'course  not.  Polly  is  n't  going  to  marry  any 
body  ;  she 's  going  to  keep  house  for  Will  when  he 's  a 
minister,  I  heard  her  say  so,"  cried  Maud,  with  im 
portance. 

44  What  a  fate  for  pretty  Polly !  "  ejaculated  Tom. 

44  She  likes  it,  and  I  'm  sure  I  should  think  she 
would ;  it 's  beautiful  to  hear  'em  plan  it  all  out." 

"Any  more  gossip  to  retail,  Pug?"  asked  Tom  a 
minute  after,  as  Maud  seemed  absorbed  in  visions  of 
the  future. 

18 


194  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

"  He  told  a  funny  story  about  blowing  up  o?ie  of 
the  professors.  You  never  told  us,  so  I  suppose  you 
did  n't  know  it.  Some  bad  fellow  put  a  torpedo,  or 
some  sort  of  powder  thing,  under  the  chair,  and  it 
went  off  in  the  midst  of  the  lesson,  and  the  poor  man 
flew  up,  frightened  most  to  pieces,  and  the  boys  ran 
with  pails  of  water  to  put  the  fire  out.  But  the  thing 
that  made  Will  laugh  most  was,  that  the  very  fellow 
who  did  it  got  his  trousers  burnt  trying  to  put  out 
the  fire,  and  he  asked  the  —  is  it  Faculty  or  Presi 
dent?" 

"  Either  will  do,"  murmured  Tom,  who  was  shaking 
with  suppressed  laughter. 

"  Well,  he  asked  'em  to  give  him  some  new  ones, 
and  they  did  give  him  money  enough  for  a  nice  pair ; 
but  he  got  some  cheap  ones,  with  horrid  great  stripes 
on  'em,  and  always  wore  'em  to  that  particular 
class,  k  which  was  one  too  many  for  the  fellows,'  Will 
said,  and  with  the  rest  of  the  money  he  had  a  punch 
party.  Was  n't  it  dreadful  ?  " 

"  Awful ! "  And  Tom  exploded  into  a  great  laugh, 
that  made  Fanny  cover  her  ears,  and  the  little  dog 
bark  wildly. 

u  Did  you  know  that  bad  boy  ? "  asked  innocent 
Maud. 

"  Slightly,"  gasped  Tom,  in  whose  wardrobe  at  col 
lege  those  identical  trousers  were  hanging  at  that 
moment. 

"  Don't  make  such  a  noise,  my  head  aches  dread 
fully,"  said  Fanny,  fretfully. 

"  Girls'  heads  always  do  ache,"  answered  Tom,  sub 
siding  from  a  roar  into  a  chuckle. 


BrotJiers  and  Sisters.  195 

"  What  pleasure  you  boys  can  find  in  such  ungen- 
tlernanly  things,  I  don't  see,"  said  Fanny,  who  was 
evidently  out  of  sorts. 

"  As  much  a  mystery  to  you  as  it  is  to  us,  how  you 
girls  can  like  to  gabble  and  prink  from  one  week's  end 
to  the  other,"  retorted  Tom. 

There  was  a  pause  after  this  little  passage-at-arms, 
but  Fan  wanted  to  be  amused,  for  time  hung  heavily 
on  her  hands,  so  she  asked,  in  a  more  amiable  tone, 

"How's  Trix?" 

"  As  sweet  as  ever,"  answered  Tom,  gruffly. 

"  Did  she  scold  you,  as  usual?" 

"  She  just  did." 

"What  was  the  matter?" 

"  Well,  I  '11  leave  it  to  you  if  this  is  n't  unreasona 
ble  :  she  won't  dance  with  me  herself,  yet  don't  like 
me  to  go  it  with  anybody  else.  I  said,  I  thought,  if  a 
fellow  took  a  girl  to  a  party,  she  ought  to  dance  with 
him  once,  at  least,  especially  if  they  were  engaged. 
She  said  that  was  the  very  reason  why  she  should  n't 
do  it ;  so,  at  the  last  hop,  I  let  her  alone,  and  had  a 
gay  time  with  Belle,  and  to-day  Trix  gave  it  to  me 
hot  and  heavy,  coming  home  from  church." 

"  If  you  go  and -engage  yourself  to  a  girl  like  that, 
I  don't  know  what  you  can  expect.  Did  she  wear  her 
Paris  hat  to-day  ?  "  added  Fan,  with  sudden  interest 
in  her  voice. 

"  She  wore  some  sort  of  a  blue  thing,  with  a  con 
founded  bird  of  Paradise  in  it,  that  kept  whisking  into 
my  face  every  time  she  turned  her  head." 

"  Men  never  know  a  pretty  thing  when  they  see  it 
That  hat  is  perfectly  lovely." 


196  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

"  They  know  a  lady  when  they  see  her,  and  Trix 
don't  look  like  one  ;  I  can't  say  where  the  trouble  is, 
but  there 's  too  much  fuss  and  feathers  for  my  taste. 
You  are  twice  as  stylish,  yet  you  never  look  loud 
or  fast." 

Touched  by  this  unusual  compliment,  Fanny  drew 
her  chair  nearer  as  she  replied  with  complacency,  — 

u  Yes,  I  natter  myself  I  do  know  how  to  dress  well. 
Trix  never  did  ;  she 's  fond  of  gay  colors,  and  gen 
erally  looks  like  a  walking  rainbow." 

"  Can't  you  give  her  a  hint  ?  Tell  her  not  to  wear 
blue  gloves  any  way,  she  knows  I  hate  *em." 

"  I  Ve  done  my  best  for  your  sake,  Tom,  but  she  is 
a  perverse  creature,  and  don't  mind  a  word  I  say,  even 
about  things  much  more  objectionable  than  blue 
gloves." 

"  Maudie,  run  and  bring  me  my  other  cigar  case, 
it 's  lying  round  somewhere." 

Maud  went ;  and  as  soon  as  the  door  was  shut, 
Tom  rose  on  his  elbow,  saying  in  a  cautiously  lowered 
voice. 

"  Fan,  does  Trix  paint?  " 

"  Yes,  and  draws  too,"  answered  Fanny,  with  a  sly 
laugh. 

"  Come,  you  know  what  I  mean  ;  I  Ve  a  right  to  ask 
and  you  ought  to  tell,"  said  Tom,  soberly,  for  he  was 
beginning  to  find  that  being  engaged  was  not  unmiti 
gated  bliss. 

"  What  makes  you  think  she  does? " 

"  Well,  between  ourselves,"  said  Tom,  looking  a 
little  sheepish,  but  anxious  to  set  his  mind  at  rest, 
"  she  never  will  let  me  kiss  hor  on  her  cheek,  nothing 


Brothers  and  Sisters.  197 

but  an  unsatisfactory  peck  at  her  lips.  Then  the 
other  day,  as  I  took  a  bit  of  heliotrope  out  of  a  vase  to 
put  in  my  button-hole,  I  wisked  a  drop  of  water  into 
her  face  ;  I  was  going  to  wipe  it  off,  but  she  pushed  my 
hand  away,  and  ran  to  the  glass,  where  she  carefully 
dabbed  it  dry,  and  came  back  with  one  cheek  redder 
than  the  other.  I  did  n't  say  anything,  but  I  had  my 
suspicions.  Come  now,  does  she  ?  " 

"Yes,  she  does ;  but  don't  say  a  word  to  her,  for 
she  '11  never  forgive  my  telling  if  she  knew  it." 

"  I  don't  care  for  that ;  I  don't  like  it,  and  I  won't 
have  it,"  said  Tom,  decidedly. 

"  You  can't  help  yourself.  Half  the  girls  do  it, 
either  paint  or  powder,  darken  their  lashes  with  burnt 
hair-pins,  or  take  cologne  on  lumps  of  sugar  or  bella- 
dona  to  make  their  eyes  bright.  Clara  tried  arsenic 
for  her  complexion,  but  her  mother  stopped  it,"  said 
Fanny,  betraying  the  secrets  of  th^prison  house  in  the 
basest  manner. 

u  I  knew  you  girls  were  a  set  of  humbugs,  and  very 
pretty  ones,  too,  some  of  you,  but  I  can't  say  I  like 
to  see  3Tou  painted  up  like  a  lot  of  actresses,"  said 
Tom,  with  an  air  of  disgust. 

"  /  don't  do  anything  of  the  sort,  or  need  it,  but 
Trix  does ;  and  having  chosen  her,  you  must  abide 
your  choice,  for  better  or  worse." 

"  It  has  n't  come  to  that  yet,"  muttered  Tom,  as 
he  lay  down  again  with  a  rebellious  air. 

Maud's  return  put  an  end  to  these  confidences, 
though  Tom  excited  her  curiosity  by  asking  the  mys 
terious  question,  "  I  say,  Fan,  is  Polly  up  to  that  sort 
of  thing?" 


198  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl 

"  No,  she  thinks  it 's  awful.  When  she  gets  pale 
and  dragged  out  she  will  probably  change  her  mind." 

"  I  doubt  it,"  said  Tom. 

"  folly  says  it  is  n't  proper  to  talk  secrets  before 
people  who  ain't  in  'em,"  observed  Maud,  with  dignity. 

"  Do,  for  mercy  sake,  stop  talking  about  Polly,  I  'm 
sick  to  death  of  it,"  cried  Fanny,  snappishly. 

"  Hullo  ! "  and  Tom  sat  up  to  take  a  survey.  "  1 
thought  you  were  bosom  friends,  and  as  spoony  as 
ever." 

"Well,  I  am  fond  of  Polly,  but  I  get  tired  of 
hearing  Maud  sing  her  praises  everlastingly.  Now 
don't  go  and  repeat  that,  chatterbox." 

"  My  goodness,  is  n't  she  cross?"  whispered  Maud 
to  Tom. 

"  As  two  sticks  ;  let  her  be.  There 's  the  bell ;  see 
who  it  is,  Pug,"  answered  Tom,  as  a  tingle  broke  the 
silence  of  the  house. 

Maud  went  to  peep  over  the  banisters,  and  came 
fiying  back  in  a  rapture. 

"It's  Will  come  for  me!  Can't  I  go?  It  don't 
snow  hard,  and  I  '11  bundle  up,  and  you  can  send  for 
me  when  papa  comes." 

"  I  don't  care  what  you  do,"  answered  Fan,  who 
was  in  a  very  bad  temper. 

Without  waiting  for  any  other  permission,  Maud 
rushed  away  to  get  ready.  Will  would  n't  come  up, 
he  was  so  snowy,  and  Fanny  was  glad,  because  with 
her  he  was  bashful,  awkward  and  silent,  so  Tom  went 
down  and  entertained  him  with  Maud's  report.  They 
were  very  good  friends,  but  led  entirely  different  lives, 
Will  being  a  "  dig,"  and  Tom  a  "  bird,"  or,  in  plain 


Brothers  and  Sisters.  199 

English,  one  was  a  hard  student,  and  the  other  a  jolly 
young  gentleman.  Tom  had  rather  patronized  Will, 
who  did  n't  like  it,  and  showed  that  he  did  n't  by  refus 
ing  to  borrow  money  of  him,  or  accept  any  of  his  invi 
tations  to  join  the  clubs  and  societies  to  which  Tom 
belonged.  So  Shaw  let  Milton  alone,  and  he  got  on 
very  well  in  his  own  way,  doggedly  sticking  to  his 
books,  and  resisting  all  temptations  but  those  of 
certain  libraries,  athletic  games,  and  such  inexpen 
sive  pleasures  as  were  within  his  means  ;  for  this  be 
nighted  youth  had  not  yet  discovered  that  college 
nowadays  is  a  place  in  which  to  "  sky-lark,"  not  to 
study. 

When  Maud  came  down  and  trotted  contentedly 
away,  holding  Will's  hand,  Tom  watched  them  out  of 
sight,  and  then  strolled  about  the  house  whistling  and 
thinking,  till  he  went  to  sleep  in  his  father's  arm 
chair,  for  want  of  something  better  to  do.  He  awoke 
to  the  jo}^s  of  a  solitary  tea,  for  his  mother  never 
came  down,  and  Fanny  shut  herself  and  her  head 
ache  up  in  her  own  room. 

"Well,  this  is  cheerful,"  he  said,  as  the  clock 
struck  eight,  and  his  fourth  cigar  came  to  an  end. 
««  Trix  is  mad,  and  Fan  in  the  dumps,  so  I  '11  take  my 
self  off.  Guess  I  '11  go  round  to  Polly's,  and  ask  Will 
to  drive  out  with  me,  and  save  him  the  walk,  poor  chap. 
Might  bring  Midget  home,  it  will  please  her,  and 
there  's  no  knowing  when  the  governor  will  be  back." 

With  these  thoughts  in  his  head,  Tom  leisurely  got 
under  way,  and  left  his  horse  at  a  neighboring  stable, 
for  he  meant  to  make  a  little  call,  and  see  what  it  wae 
Maud  enjoyed  so  much. 


20O  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl 

"  Polly  is  holding  forth,"  he  said  to  himself,  as  h& 
.  went  quietly  up-stairs,  and  the  steady  murmur  of  a 
pleasant  voice  came  down  to  him.  Tom  laughed  at 
Polly's  earnest  way  of  talking  when  she  was  interested 
in  anything.  But  he  liked  it  because  it  was  so  dif 
ferent  from  the  coquettish  clatter  of  most  of  the  girls 
with  whom  he  talked.  Young  men  often  laugh  at  the 
sensible  girls  whom  they  secretly  respect,  and  affect  to 
admire  the  silly  ones  whom  they  secretly  despise,  be 
cause  earnestness,  intelligence,  and  womanly  dignity 
are  not  the  fashion. 

The  door  was  ajar,  and  pausing  in  the  dark  entry, 
Tom  took  a  survey  before  he  went  in.  The  prospect 
was  not  dazzling,  but  home-like  and  pleasant.  The 
light  of  a  bright  fire  filled  the  little  room,  and  down 
on  a  stool  before  it  was  Maud  tending  Puttel,  and 
watching  with  deep  interest  the  roasting  of  an  apple 
intended  for  her  special  benefit.  On  the  couch 
lounged  Will,  his  thoughtful  eyes  fixed  on  Polly,  who, 
while  she  talked,  smoothed  the  broad  forehead  of  her 
"  yellow-haired  laddie  "  in  a  way  that  Tom  thought 
an  immense  improvement  on  Maud's  performance. 
They  had  evidently  been  building  castles  in  the  air, 
for  Polly  was  saying  in  her  most  impressive  manner, 

"  Well,  whatever  you  do,  Will,  don't  have  a  great, 
costly  church  that  takes  so  much  money  to  build  and 
support  it  that  you  have  nothing  to  give  away. 
I  like  the  plain,  old-fashioned  churches,  built  for  use, 
not  show,  where  people  met  for  hearty  praying  and 
preaching,  and  where  everybody  made  their  own 
music  instead  of  listening  to  opera  singers,  as  we  do 
now.  I  don't  care  if  the  old  churches  were  bare  and 


Brothers  and  Sisters.  201 

cold,  and  the  seats  hard,  there  was  real  piety  in  them, 
and  the  sincerity  of  it  was  felt  in  the  lives  of  the  peo 
ple.  I  don't  want  a  religion  that  I  pat  away  with  my 
Sunday  clothes,  and  don't  take  out  till  the  day  comes 
round  again ;  I  want  something  to  see  and  feel  and 
live  by  day  by  day,  and  I  hope  you  '11  be  one  of  the 
true  ministers,  who  can  teach  by  precept  and  example, 
how  to  get  and  keep  it." 

"  I  hope  I  shall  be,  Polly,  but  you  know  they  say 
that  in  families,  if  there  is  a  boy  who  can't  do  any 
thing  else,  they  make  a  minister  of  him.  I  sometimes 
think  I  ain't  good  for  much,  and  that  seems  to  me  the 
reason  why  I  shouldn't  even  try  to  be  a  minister," 
said  Will,  smiling,  yet  looking  as  if  with  all  his 
humility  he  did  have  faith  in  the  aspirations  that 
came  to  him  in  his  best  moments. 

"  Some  one  said  that  very  thing  to  father  once,  and 
I  remember  he  answered,  '  I  am  glad  to  give  my  best 
and  brightest  son  to  the  service  of  God.' " 

"  Did  he  say  that?"  and  Will's  color  rose,  for  the 
big,  book-loving  fellow  was  as  sensitive  as  a  girl  to 
the  praise  of  those  dearest  to  him. 

"  Yes,"  said  Polly,  unconsciously  giving  the  strong 
est  stimulus  to  her  brother's  hope  and  courage.  "Yes, 
and  he  added,  4 1  shall  let  my  boys  follow  the  guide 
that  is  in  them,  and  only  ask  of  them  to  use  their  gifts 
conscientiously,  and  be  honest,  useful  men/  " 

"  So  we  will !  Ned  is  doing  well  out  West,  and 
I  'm  hard  at  it  here.  If  father  does  his  best  to  give 
us  the  chance  we  each  want,  the  least  we  can  do  is  to 
work  with  a  will." 

"  Whatever  you  do,  you  can't  help  working  with  a 


2O2  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

Will,"  cried  Tom,  who  had  been  so  interested,  that  he 
forgot  he  was  playing  eavesdropper. 

Polly  flew  up,  looking  so  pleased  and  surprised, 
that  Tom  reproached  himself  for  not  having  called 
oftener. 

"  I've  come  for  Maud,"  he  announced,  in  a  paternal 
tone,  which  made  that  young  lady  open  her  eyes. 

"  I  can't  go  till  my  apple  is  done  ;  besides,  it  is  n't 
nine  yet,  and  Will  is  going  to  take  me  along,  when 
he  goes.  I  'd  rather  have  him." 

"  I  'm  going  to  take  you  both  in  the  cutter.  Tht; 
storm  is  over,  but  it  is  heavy  walking,  so  you  '11  drive 
out  with  me,  old  man  ? "  said  Tom,  with  a  nod  at 
Will. 

"  Of  course  he  will ;  and  thank  you  ver}^  much. 
I  Ve  been  trying  to  keep  him  all  night ;  Miss  Mills 
always  manages  to  find  a  corner  for  stray  people,  but 
he  insists  on  going,  so  as  to  get  to  work  early  to-mor 
row,"  said  Polly,  delighted  to  see  that  Tom  was  tak 
ing  off  his  coat,  as  if  he  meant  to  wait  for  Maud's  ap 
ple,  which  Polly  blessed  for  being  so  slow  to  cook. 

Putting  her  guest  into  the  best  chair,  Polly  sat 
down  and  beamed  at  him  with  such  hospitable  satis 
faction,  that  Tom  went  up  several  pegs  in  his  own 
estimation. 

"  You  don't  come  very  often,  so  we  are  rather  over 
powered  when  you  do  honor  us,"  she  said,  demurely. 

"Well,  you  know  we  fellows  are  so  busy,  we 
haven't  much  time  to  enjoy  ourselves,"  answered 
Tom. 

"  Ahem  ! "  said  Will,  loudly. 

"  Take  a  troche,"  said  Tom. 


Brothers  and  Sisters.  203 

Then  they  both  burst  out  laughing,  and  Polly,  fully 
understanding  the  joke,  joined  them,  saying,  — 

"  Here  are  some  peanuts,  Tom  ;  do  enjoy  yourself 
while  you  can." 

"  Now  I  call  that  a  delicate  compliment !  "  And 
Tom,  who  had  not  lost  his  early  relish  for  this  sort 
of  refreshment,  tnough  he  seldom  indulged  his  pas 
sion  nowadays,  because  peanuts  are  considered  vul 
gar,  fell  to  cracking  and  munching  with  great  satis 
faction. 

u  Do  you  remember  the  first  visit  I  made  at  your 
house,  how  you  gave  me  peanuts,  coming  from  the 
depot,  and  frightened  me  out  of  my  wits,  pretending 
the  coachman  was  tipsy  ?  "  asked  Polly. 

"  Of  course  I  do,  and  how  we  coasted  one  day," 
answered  Tom,  laughing. 

*;  Yes,  and  the  velocipede  ;  you  've  got  the  scar  of 
that  yet,  I  see." 

"  I  remember  how  you  stood  *by  me  while  it  was 
sewed  up  ;  that  was  very  plucky,  Polly." 

"  I  was  dreadfully  afraid,  but  I  remember  I  wanted 
to  seem  very  brave,  because  3rou'd  called  me  a 
coward." 

"  Did  I  ?  Ought  to  have  been  ashamed  of  myself. 
I  used  to  rough  you  shamefully,  Polly,  and  you  were 
so  good-natured,  you  let  me  do  it." 

*•  Could  n't  help  myself,"  laughed  Polly.  "I  did 
use  to  think  you  were  an  awful  boy,  but  seems  to  me 
I  rather  liked  it." 

"  She  had  so  much  of  it  at  home,  she  got  used  to 
it,"  put  in  Will,  pulling  the  little  curl  behind  Polly's 
ear. 


2O4  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

"  You  boys  never  teased  me  as  Tom  did,  that 's  the 
reason  it  amused  me,  I  suppose  ;  novelty  hath  charms, 
you  know." 

"  Grandma  used  to  lecture  Tom  for  plaguing  you, 
Polly,  and  he  used  to  say  he  'd  be  a  tip-top  boy,  but 
he  was  n't,"  observed  Maud,  with  a  venerable  ah*. 

"Dear  old  grandma;  she  did  her  best,  but  I'm  a 
bad  lot,"  said  Tom,  with  a  shake  of  the  head  and  a 
sober  face. 

"  It  always  seems  as  if  she  must  be  up  in  her  rooms, 
and  I  can't  get  used  to  finding  them  empty,"  added 
Polly,  softly. 

"  Father  wouldn't  have  any  thing  moved,  and  Tom 
sits  up  there  sometimes ;  it  makes  him  feel  good,  he 
says,"  said  Maud,  who  had  a  talent  for  betraying  trifles 
which  people  preferred  should  not  be  mentioned  in 
public. 

"  You'd  better  hurry  up  your  apple,  for  if  it  isn't 
done  pretty  soon,  you  '11  have  to  leave  it,  Pug,"  said 
Tom,  looking  anno3red. 

"  How  is  Fan?  "  asked  Polly,  with  tact. 

"  Well,  Fan  is  rather  under  the  weather ;  says  she 's 
dyspeptic,  which  means  cross." 

"  She  is  cross,  but  she 's  sick  too,  for  I  found  her 
crying  one  day,  and  she  said  nobody  cared  about  her, 
and  she  might  as  well  be  dead,"  added  Maud,  having 
turned  her  apple  with  tender  care. 

"  We  must  try  to  cheer  her  up,  among  us.  If  I 
was  n't  so  busy  I  'd  like  to  devote  myself  to  her,  she 
has  done  so  much  for  me,"  said  Polly,  gratefully. 

"  I  wish  you  could.  I  can't  understand  her,  for 
<jlie  acts  like  a  weathercock,  and  I  never  know  how  I  'm 


Brothers  and  Sisters.  205 

going  to  find  her.  I  hate  to  have  her  mope  so,  but, 
upon  my  life,  I  don't  know  what  to  do,"  said  Tom ; 
but  as  he  uttered  the  words,  something  was  suggested 
by  the  sight  before  him.  Chairs  were  few,  and  Polly 
had  taken  half  of  Will's  when  they  drew  round  tho 
fire.  Now  she  was  leaning  against  him,  in  a  cosy,  con 
fiding  way,  delightful  to  behold,  while  Will's  strong 
arm  went  round  her  with  a  protecting  air,  which  said, 
as  plainly  as  any  words,  that  this  big  brother  and 
small  sister  knew  how  to  love  and  help  one  another. 
It  was  a  pleasant  little  picture,  all  the  pleasanter  for 
its  unconsciousness,  and  Tom  found  it  both  sugges 
tive  and  agreeable. 

"  Poor  old  Fan,  she  don't  get  much  petting  ;  maybe 
that 's  what  she  wants.  I  '11  try  it  and  see,  for  she 
stands  by  me  like  a  trump.  If  she  was  a  rosy,  cosy 
little  woman,  like  Polly,  it  would  come  easier,  though/ 
thought  Tom,  as  he  meditatively  ate  his  last  nut,  feel 
ing  that  fraternal  affection  could  not  be  very  difficult 
of  demonstration,  to  brothers  blessed  with  pretty, 
good-tempered  sisters. 

"  I  told  Tom  about  the  bad  fellow  who  blew  up  the 
professor,  and  he  said  he  knew  him,  slightly ;  and  I 
was  so  relieved,  because  I  had  a  kind  of  a  feeling  that 
it  was  Tom  himself,  you  and  Will  laughed  so  about  it." 

Maud  had  a  queer  way  of  going  on  with  her  own 
thoughts,  and  suddenly  coming  out  with  whatever  lay 
uppermost,  regardless  of  time,  place,  or  company. 
As  this  remark  fell  from  her,  there  was  a  general 
smile,  and  Polly  said,  with  mock  solemnity,  — 

"  It  was  a  sad  thing,  and  I  've  no  doubt  that  mis 
guided  young  man  is  very  sorry  for  it  now." 


206  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

"  He  looked  perfectly  bowed  down  with  remorse 
last  time  I  saw  him,"  said  Will,  regarding  Tom  with 
eyes  full  of  fun,  for  Will  was  a  boy  as  well  as  a  book 
worm,  and  relished  a  joke  as  well  as  scatter-brained 
Tom. 

uHe  always  is  remorseful  after  a  scrape,  I've  un 
derstood,  for  he  is  n't  a  very  bad  fellow,  only  his  spir 
its  are  one  too  many  for  him,  and  he  is  n't  as  fond  of 
his  book  as  another  fellow  I  know." 

"  I  'm  afraid  he  '11  be  expelled  if  he  don't  mind," 
said  Polly,  warningly. 

41  Should  n't  wonder  if  he  was,  he 's  such  an  unlucky 
dog,"  answered  Tom,  rather  soberly. 

"  I  hope  he  '11  remember  that  his  friends  will  be 
very  much  disappointed  if  he  is.  He  might  make 
them  so  proud  and  happy ;  that  I  guess  he  will,  for  he 
is  n't  half  as  thoughtless  as  he  makes  himself  out," 
said  Polly,  looking  across  at  Tom  with  such  friendly 
eyes  that  he  was  quite  touched,  though  of  course  he 
did  n't  show  it. 

"Thank  you,  Polly;  he  may  pull  through,  but  I 
have  my  doubts.  Now,  old  man,  let  us  c  pud'  along  ; 
it 's  getting  late  for  the  chicken,"  he  added,  relapsing 
into  the  graceful  diction  with  which  a  classical  educa 
tion  gifts  its  fortunate  possessor. 

Taking  advantage  of  the  moment  while  Will  was 
wrestling  with  his  boots  in  the  closet,  and  Maud  wa3 
absorbed  in  packing  her  apple  into  a  large  basket, 
Polly  said  to  Tom  in  a  low  tone,  — 

"  Thank  you  very  much,  for  being  so  kind  to  Will." 

"  Bless  your  heart,  I  have  n't  done  anything  ;  he 's 
such  a  proud  fellow  he  won't  let  me,"  answered  Tom. 


Brothers  and  Sisters.  207 

u  But  you  do  in  many  little  ways ;  to-night,  foi 
example.  Do  you  think  I  don't  know  that  the  suit  oi 
clothes  he  's  just  got  would  have  cost  a  good  deal 
more,  if  your  tailor  had  n't  made  them  ?  He  's  only 
a  boy,  and  don't  understand  things  yet ;  but  I 
know  your  way  of  helping  proud  people,  so  that 
they  don't  find  it  out,  and  I  do  thank  you,  Tom,  so 
much." 

"Oh,  come  Polly,  that  won't  do.  What  do  you 
know  about  tailors  and  college  matters?"  said  Tom, 
looking  as  much  confused  as  if  she  had  found  him 
out  in  something  reprehensible. 

• "  I  don't  know  much,  and  that 's  the  reason  why 
I  'm  grateful  for  your  kindness  to  Will.  I  don't  care 
what  stories  they  tell  about  you,  I  'm  sure  you  wont 
lead  Mm  into  trouble,  but  keep  him  straight,  for  my 
sake.  You  know  I've  Iftst  one  brother,  and  Will 
takes  Jimmy's  place  to  me  now." 

The  tears  in  Polly's  eyes  as* she  said  that,  made 
Tom  vow  a  tremendous  vow  within  himself  to  stand 
by  Will  through  thick  and  thin,  and  u  keep  him 
straight  for  Polly's  sake  "  ;  feeling  all  the  time  how 
ill-fitted  he  was  for  such  a  task. 

u  I  '11  do  my  best,"  he  said,  heartily,  as  he  pressed 
the  hand  Polly  gave  him,  with  a  look  which  assured 
her  that  he  felt  the  appeal  to  his  honor,  and  that 
henceforth  the  country  lad  was  safe  from  all  the 
temptations  Tom  could  have  offered  him. 

"  There  !  now  I  shall  give  that  to  mamma  to  take 
her  pills  in ;  it 's  just  what  she  likes,  and  it  pleases 
her  to  be  thought  of,"  said  Maud,  surveying  her  gift 
with  complacency,  as  she  put  on  her  things. 


208  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl 

"You're  a  good  little  soul,  to  remember  poor 
mum,"  said  Tom,  with  an  approving  nod. 

"  Well,  she  was  so  pleased  with  the  grapes  you 
brought  her,  I  thought  I  'd  try  something,  and  maybe 
she  'd  say  '  Thank  you,  darling,'  to  me  too.  Do  you 
think  she  will?"  whispered  Maud,  with  the  wistful 
look  so  often  seen  on  her  little  plain  face. 

44  See  if  she  don't"  ;  and  to  Maud's  great  surprise 
Tom  did  n't  laugh  at  her  project. 

"  Good  night,  dear ;  take  care  of  yourself,  and  keep 
your  muffler  round  your  mouth  going  over  the  bridge, 
or  you'll  be  as  hoarse  as  a  crow  to-morrow,"  said 
Polly,  as  she  kissed  her  brother,  who  returned  it  with 
out  looking  as  if  he  thought  it  u  girl's  nonsense." 
Then  the  three  piled  into  the  sleigh  and  drove  off, 
leaving  Polly  nodding  on  the  doorstep. 

Maud  found  the  drive  altogether  too  short,  but 
was  consoled  by  the  promise  of  a  longer  one  if  the 
sleighing  lasted  till  'next  Saturday ;  and  when  Tora 
ran  up  to  bid  his  mother  good-by,  and  give  her  a  hint 
about  Maud's  gift,  she  stayed  below  to  say,  at  the 
last  minute,  in  unconscious  imitation  of  Polly,  — 

"  Good  night ;  take  care  of  yourself,  my  dear." 

Tom  laughed,  and  was  about  to  pinch  the  much- 
enduring  little  nose ;  but,  as  if  the  words  reminded 
Aim  of  something,  he  gave  her  a  kiss  instead,  a  piece 
of  forbearance  which  almost  took  Maud's  breath  away 
with  surprise  and  gratification. 

It  was  rather  a  silent  drive,  for  Will  obediently 
kept  his  muffler  up,  and  Tom  fell  into  a  brown  study. 

He  was  not  much  given  to  reflection,  but  occasion 
ally  indulged  when  something  gave  him  a  turn  in  that 


Brothers  and  Sisters.  209 

direction,  and  at  such  times  he  was  as  sober  and 
sincere  as  could  be  desired.  Any  one  might  have 
lectured  him  for  an  hour  without  doing  as  much  good 
as  that  little  call  and  the  chat  that  grew  out  of  it,  for, 
though  nothing  very  wise  or  witty  was  said,  many 
things  were  suggested,  and  every  one  knows  that  per 
suasive  influences  are  better  than  any  amount  of 
moralizing.  Neither  Polly  nor  Will  tried  to  do  any 
thing  of  the  sort,  and  that  was  the  charm  of  it.  No 
body  likes  to  be  talked  to,  but  nobody  can  resist  the 
eloquence  of  unconscious  preaching.  With  all  his 
thoughtlessness,  Tom  was  quick  to  see  and  feel  these 
things,  and  was  not  spoilt  enough  yet  to  laugh  at 
them.  The  sight  of  Will  and  Polly's  simple  affection 
for  one  another  reminded  him  of  a  neglected  duty  so 
pleasantly,  that  he  could  not  forget  it.  Talking  of 
early  days  made  him  wish  he  could  go  back  and  start 
again,  doing  better.  Grandma's  name  recalled  the 
tender  memory  that  always  did  him  good,  and  the 
thought  that  Polly  trusted  her  dearest  brother  to  his 
care  stirred  up  a  manful  desire  to  deserve  the  confi 
dence.  Tortures  would  n't  have  drawn  a  word  of  all 
this  from  him,  but  it  had  its  effect,  for  boys  don't 
leave  their  hearts  and  consciences  behind  them  when 
they  enter  college,  and  little  things  of  this  sort  do 
much  to  keep  botii  from  being  damaged  by  the  four 
years'  scrimmage  which  begins  the  battle  of  life  for 
most  of  them. 

14 


CHAPTER  XI. 

NEEDLES  AND  TONGUES. 

U  FjEAR  POLLY, 

U  "The  Sewing  Circle  meets  at  our  house  this 
P.  M.  This  is  in  your  line,  so  do  come  and  help  me 
through.  I  shall  depend  on  you. 

Yours  ever, 

FAN." 

"Bad  news,  my  dear?"  asked  Miss  Mills,  who  had 
just  handed  the  note  to  Polly  as  she  came  in  one  noon, 
a  few  weeks  after  Jenny's  arrival. 

Polly  told  her  what  it  was,  adding,  "  I  suppose  1 
ought  to  go  and  help  Fanny,  but  I  can't  say  I  want 
to.  The  girls  talk  about  things  I  have  nothing  to 
do  with,  and  I  don't  find  their  gossip  very  amusing. 
I  'm  an  outsider,  and  they  only  accept  me  on  Fan's 
account;  so  I  sit  in  a  corner  and  sew,  while  they 
chatter  and  laugh." 

"  Would  n't  it  be  a  good  chance  to  say  a  word  for 
Jenny?  She  wants  work,  and  these  young  ladies 
probably  have  quantities  done  somewhere.  Jenny 
does  fine  work  exquisitely,  and  begins  to  feel  anxious 
to  be  earning  something.  I  don't  want  her  to  fee) 
dependent  and  unhappy,  and  a  little  well-paid  sewing 


Needles  and  Tongues.  211 

<vould  be  all  she  needs  to  do  nicely.  I  can  get  it  for 
her  by  running  round  to  my  friends,  but  I  really 
have  n't  the  time,  till  I  get  the  Mullers  off.  They 
are  paupers  here,  but  out  West  they  can  take  care  of 
themselves,  so  I  've  begged  the  money  to  send  them, 
and  as  soon  as  I  can  get  them  some  clothes,  off  they 
go.  That 's  the  way  to  help  people  help  themselves," 
and  Miss  Mills  clashed  her  big  scissors  energetically, 
as  she  cut  out  a  little  red  flannel  shirt. 

"  I  know  it  is,  and  I  want  to  help,  but  I  don't  know 
where  to  begin,"  said  Polty,  feeling  quite  oppressed 
with  the  immensity  of  the  work. 

"  We  can't  any  of  us  do  all  we  would  like,  but  we 
can  do  our  best  for  every  case  that  comes  to  us,  and 
that  helps  amazingly.  Begin  with  Jenny,  my  dear ; 
tell  those  girls  about  her,  and  if  I  'm  not  much  mis 
taken,  you  will  find  them  ready  to  help,  for  half  the 
time  it  is  n't  hardness  of  heart,  but  ignorance  or 
thoughtlessness  on  the  part  of  the  rich,  that  makes 
them  seem  so  careless  of  the  poor." 

"  To  tell  the  truth,  I  'm  afraid  of  being  laughed  at, 
if  I  try  to  talk  seriously  about  such  things  to  the 
girls,"  said  Polly,  frankly. 

"You  believe  that  'such  things'  are  true?  you 
are  sincere  in  your  wish  to  help  better  them,  and  you 
respect  those  who  work  for  that  end  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  do." 

"  Then,  my  dear,  can't  you  bear  a  little  ridicule  for 
the  sake  of  a  good  cause  ?  You  said  yesterdUy  that 
you  were  going  to  make  it  a  principle  of  your  life, 
to  help  up  your  sex  as  far  and  as  fast  as  you  could. 
It  did  my  heart  good  to  hear  you  say  it,  for  I  was 


212  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

sure  that  in  time  you  Would  keep  your  word.  But, 
Polly,  a  principle  that?  can't  bear  being  laughed  at, 
frowned  on,  and  cold-shouldered,  isn't  worthy  of 
the  name." 

"  I  want  to  be  strong-minded  in  the  real  sense  of 
the  word,  but  I  don't  like  to  be  called  so  by  people 
who  don't  understand  my  meaning  ;  and  I  shall  be  if 
I  try  to  make  the  girls  think  soberly  about  anything 
sensible  or  philanthropic.  They  call  me  old-fash 
ioned  now,  and  I  'd  rather  be  thought  that,  though  it 
isn't  pleasant,  than  be  set  down  as  a  rampant  wo 
man's  rights  reformer,"  said  Polly,  in  whose  memory 
many  laughs,  and  snubs,  and  sarcasms  still  lingered, 
forgiven  but  not  forgotten. 

"This  love  and  thought  and  care  for  those  weaker, 
poorer,  or  worse  than  ourselves,  which  we  call  Christian 
charity,  is  a  very  old  fashion,  my  dear.  It  began  eigh 
teen  hundred  years  ago,  and  only  those  who  honestly 
follow  the  beautiful  example  set  us  then,  learn  how  to 
get  genuine  happiness  out  of  life.  I'm  not  a  'ram 
pant  woman's  rights  reformer,' "  added  Miss  Mills, 
with  a  smile  at  Polly's  sober  face  ;  "but  I  think  that 
women  can  do  a  great  deal  for  each  other,  if  they  will 
only  stop  fearing  what  '  people  will  think,'  and  take  a 
hearty  interest  in  whatever  is  going  to  fit  their  sisters 
and  themselves  to  deserve  and  enjoy  the  rights  God 
gave  them.  There  are  so  many  ways  in  which  this 
can  be  done,  that  I  wonder  they  don't  see  and  im 
prove  them.  I  don  t  ask  you  to  go  and  make  speeches, 
only  a  few  have  the  gift  for  that,  but  I  do  want  every 
girl  and  woman  to  feel  this  duty,  and  make  any  little 
sacrifice  of  time  or  feeling  that  may  be  asked  of  them, 


Needles  *and  Tongues.  213 

because  there  is  so  much  to  do,  and  no  one  can  do  it 
as  well  as  ourselves,  if  we  only  think  so." 

"  I  '11  try ! "  said  Polly,  influenced  more  by  her  desire 
to  keep  Miss  Mills'  good  opinion  than  any  love  of  self 
sacrifice  for  her  sex.  •  It  was  rather  a  hard  thing  to 
ask  of  a  shy,  sensitive  girl,  and  the  kind  old  lady  knew 
it,  for  in  spite  of  the  gray  hair  and  withered  face,  her 
heart  was  very  young,  and  her  own  girlish  trials  not 
forgotten.  But  she  knew  also  that  Polly  had  more 
influence  over  others  than  she  herself  suspected,  simply 
because  of  her  candid,  upright  nature  ;  and  that  while 
she  tried  to  help  others,  she  was  serving  herself  in  a 
way  that  would  improve  heart  and  soul  more  than  any 
mere  social  success  she  might  gain  by  following  the 
rules  of  fashionable  life,  which  drill  the  character  out 
of  girls  till  they  are  as  much  alike  as  pins  in  a  paper, 
and  have  about  as  much  true  sense  and  sentiment  in 
their  little  heads.  There  was  good  stuff  in  Polly,  un 
spoiled  as  yet,  and  Miss  Mills  was  only  acting  out  her 
principle  of  women  helping  each  other.  The  wise  old 
lady  saw  that  Polly  had  reached  that  point  where  the 
girl  suddenly  blooms  into  a  woman,  asking  something 
more  substantial  than  pleasure  to  satisfy  the  new 
aspirations  that  are  born ;  a  time  as  precious  and 
important  to  the  after-life,  as  the  hour  when  the 
apple  blossoms  fall,  and  the  young  fruit  waits  for  the 
elements  to  ripen  or  destroy  the  harvest. 

Polly  did  not  know  this,  and  was  fortunate  in  pos 
sessing  a  friend  who  knew  what  influences  would  serve 
her  best,  and  who  could  give  her  what  all  women 
should  desire  to  give  each  other,  the  example  of  a 
sweet,  good  life,  more  eloquent  and  powerful  than  any 
words  ;  for  this  is  a  right  no  one  can  deny  us. 


214  An  Old-Fashidned  Girl. 

Polly  turned  the  matter  over  in  her  mind  as  she 
dressed,  while  Jenny  played  waiting  maid,  little 
dreaming  what  this  new  friend  was  meaning  to  do 
for  her,  if  she  dared. 

"  Is  it  going  to  be  a  tea-party,  Miss  ?  "  asked  Jenny, 
as  the  black  silk  went  rustling  on,  to  her  great  admira 
tion,  for  she  considered  Polly  a  beauty. 

"  Well,  no,  I  think  it  will  probably  be  a  lecture/1 
answered  Polly,  laughing,  for  Jenn}^s  grateful  service 
and  affectionate  e}res  confirmed  the  purpose  which 
Miss  Mills'  little  homily  had  suggested. 

As  she  entered  the  Shaws'  parlor  an  hour  or  two 
later,  an  appalling  array  of  well-dressed  girls  appeared, 
each  provided  with  a  dainty  reticule,  basket  or  bag,  and 
each  tongue  going  a  good  deal  faster  than  the  needle, 
while  the  white  fingers  stitched  sleeves  in  upside  down, 
put  flannel  jackets  together  hind  part  before,  or  gob 
bled  button-holes  with  the  best  intentions  in  life. 

"  You  are  a  dear  to  come  so  early.  Here  's  a  nice 
place  for  you  between  Belle  and  Miss  Perkins,  and 
here 's  a  sweet  little  dress  to  make,  unless  you  like 
something  else  better,"  said  Fanny,  receiving  her 
friend  with  warmth,  and  placing  her  where  she  thought 
she  would  enjoy  herself. 

"  Thank  you,  I  '11  take  an  unbleached  cotton  shirt 
if  you  have  such  a  thing,  for  it  is  likely  to  be  needed 
before  a  cambric  frock,"  replied  Polly,  subsiding  into 
her  corner  as  quickly  as  possible,  for  at  least  six 
eye-glasses  were  up,  and  she  did  n't  enjoy  being 
stared  at. 

Miss  Perkins,  a  grave,  cold-looking  young  lady, 
with  au  aristocratic  nose,  bowed  politely,  and  then 
went  on  with  her  work,  which  displayed  two  diamond 


Needles  and  Tongues.  215 

rings  to  great  advantage.  Belle,  being  of  the  demon 
strative  sort,  smiled  and  nodded,  drew  up  her  chair, 
and  began  a  whispered  account  of  Trix's  last  quarrel 
with  Tom.  Polly  listened  with  interest  while  she 
sewed  diligently,  occasionally  permitting  her  eyes  to 
study  the  elegant  intricacies  of  Miss  Perkins'  dress, 
for  that  young  lady  sat  like  a  statue,  quirking  her 
delicate  fingers,  and  accomplishing  about  two  stitches 
a  minute. 

In  the  midst  of  Belle's  story,  a  more  exciting  bit  of 
gossip  caught  her  ear,  and  she  plunged  into  the  con 
versation  going  on  across  the  table,  leaving  Polly  free 
to  listen  and  admire  the  wit,  wisdom,  and  charitable 
spirit  of  the  accomplished  young  ladies  about  her. 
There  was  a  perfect  Babel  of  tongues,  but  out  of  the 
confusion  Polly  gathered  scraps  of  fashionable  intel 
ligence  which  somewhat  lessened  her  respect  for  the 
dwellers  in  high  places.  One  fair  creature  asserted 
that  Joe  Somebody  took  so  much  champagne  at  the 
last  German,  that  he  had  to  be  got  away,  and  sent 
home  with  two  servants.  Another  divulged  the  awful 
fact  that  Carrie  P.'s  wedding  presents  were  half  of 
them  hired  for  the  occasion.  A  third  circulated  a 
whisper  to  the  effect  that  though  Mrs.  Buckminster 
wore  a  thousand-dollar  cloak,  her  boys  were  not 
allowed  but  one  sheet  to  their  beds.  And  a  fourth 
young  gossip  assured  the  company  that  a  certain 
person  never  had  offered  himself  to  a  certain  other 
person,  though  the  report  was  industriously  spread 
by  interested  parties.  This  latter  remark  caused 
such  a  clamor  that  Fanny  called  the  meeting  to  order 
in  a  most  unparliamentary  fashion. 


2i6  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

"  Girls !  girls !  you  really  must  talk  less  and  sew 
more,  or  our  society  will  be  disgraced.  Do  you  krow 
our  branch  sent  in  less  work  than  any  of  the  others 
last  month,  and  Mrs.  Fitz  George  said,  she  did  n't  see 
how  fifteen  young  ladies  could  manage  to  do  so 
little?" 

"  We  don't  talk  a  bit  more  than  the  old  ladies  do. 
I  just  wish  you  could  have  heard  them  go  on,  last 
time.  The  way  they  get  so  much  done,  is,  they  take 
work  home,  and  make  their  seamstresses  do  it,  and 
then  they  take  credit  for  vast  industry,"  said  Belle, 
who  always  spoke  her  mind  with  charming  candor. 

u  That  reminds  me  that  mamma  says  they  want  as 
many  things  as  we  can  make,  for  it 's  a  hard  winter, 
and  the  poor  are  suffering  very  much.  Do  any  of  you 
wish  to  take  articles  home,  to  do  at  odd  times  ?  "  said 
Fan,  who  was  president  of  this  energetic  Dorcas 
Society. 

u  Mercy,  no  !  It  takes  all  my  leisure  time  to  mend 
my  gloves  and  refresh  my  dresses,"  answered  Belle. 

"  I  think  if  we  meet  once  a  week,  it  is  all  that 
should  be  expected  of  us,  with  our  other  engage 
ments.  Poor  people  always  complain  that  the  winter 
is  a  hard  one,  and  never  are  satisfied,"  remarked  Misa 
Perkins,  making  her  diamonds  sparkle  as  she  sewed 
buttons  on  the  wrong  side  of  a  pink  calico  apron, 
which  would  hardly  survive  one  washing. 

"  Nobody  can  ask  me  to  do  any  more,  if  they  re 
member  all  I  've  got  to  attend  to  before  summer,"  said 
Trix,  with  an  important  air.  "  I  've  got  three  women 
hard  at  work,  and  want  another,  but  every  one  is  so 
bus}r,  and  ask  such  abominable  prices,  that  I  'ra  in 


Needles  and  Tongues.  217 

despair,  and  shall  have  to  take  hold  myself,  I  'in 
afraid." 

i4  There  's  a  chance  for  Jane,"  thought  Polly,  but 
had  n't  courage  "  to  speak  out  loud  in  meeting,"  just 
then,  and  resolved  to  ask  Trix  for  work,  in  private. 

"  Prices  are  high,  but  you  forget  how  much  more  it 
costs  to  live  now  than  it  used  to  do.  Mamma  never 
allows  us  to  beat  down  workwomen,  but  wishes  us  to 
pay  them  well,  and  economize  in  some  other  way,  if 
we  must,"  said  Emma  Davenport,  a  quiet,  bright-eyed 
girl,  who  was  called  "  odd  "  among  the  young  ladies, 
because  she  dressed  simply,  when  her  father  was  a 
millionnaire. 

"  Just  hear  that  girl  talk  about  economy !  I  beg 
your  pardon,  she  's  some  relation  of  yours,  I  believe  ! " 
said  Belle,  in  a  low  tone. 

"  Very  distant ;  but  I  'm  proud  of  it ;  for  with  her, 
economy  does  n't  mean  scrimping  in  one  place  to  make 
a  show  in  another.  If  every  one  would  follow  the 
Davenports'  example,  workwomen  would  n't  starve,  or 
servants  be  such  a  trouble.  Emma  is  the  plainest 
dressed  girl  in  the  room,  next  to  me,  yet  any  one  can 
see  she  is  a  true  gentlewoman,"  said  Polly,  warmly. 

"  And  }TOU  are  another,"  answered  Belle,  who  had 
always  loved  Polly,  in  her  scatter-brained  way. 

"  Hush  !     Trix  has  the  floor." 

"  If  they  spent  their  wages  properly,  I  should  n't 
mind  so  much,  but  they  think  they  must  be  as  fine  as 
anybody,  and  dress  so  well  that  it  is  hard  to  tell 
mistress  from  maid.  Why,  our  cook  got  a  bonnet 
just  like  mine  (the  materials  were  cheaper,  but  the 
effect  was  the  same),  and  had  the  impertinence  to 


218  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

wear  it  before  my  face.  I  forbid  it,  and  she  left,  of 
course,  which  made  papa  so  cross  he  wouldn't  give 
me  the  camel's  hair  shawl  he  promised  this  year." 

"  It 's  perfectly  shameful !"  said  Miss  Perkins,  as 
Trix  paused  out  of  breath.  "Servants  ought  to  bo 
made  to  dress  like  servants  as  they  do  abroad ;  then 
we  should  have  no  more  trouble,"  observed  Miss  Per 
kins,  who  had  just  made  the  grand  tour,  and  had 
brought  home  a  French  maid. 

u  Perky  don't  practise  as  she  preaches,"  whispered 
Belle  to  Polly,  as  Miss  P.  became  absorbed  in  the  chat 
of  her  other  neighbors.  "  She  pays  her  chamber  girl 
with  old  finery  ;  and  the  other  day,  when  Betsy  was  out 
parading  in  her  missis's  cast-off  purple  plush  suit,  Mr. 
Curtis  thought  she  was  mademoiselle,  and  bowed  to 
her.  He  is  as  blind  as  a  bat,  but  recognized  the  dress, 
and  pulled  off  his  hat  to  it  in  the  most  elegant  style. 
Perky  adores  him,  and  was  mad  enough  to  beat  Betsey 
when  she  told  the  story  and  giggled  over  it.  Betsey 
is  quite  as  stylish  and  ever  so  much  prettier  than 
Perky,  and  she  knows  it,  which  is  an  aggravation." 

Polly  couldn't  help  laughing,  but  grew  sober  a 
minute  after,  as  Trix  said,  pettishly,  — 

"  Well,  I  'm  sick  of  hearing  about  beggars  ;  I  be 
lieve  half  of  them  are  humbugs,  and  if  we  let  them 
alone  they  'd  go  to  work  and  take  care  of  themselves. 
There 's  altogether  too  much  fuss  made  about  charity. 
I  do  wish  we  could  be  left  in  peace." 

"  There  can't  be  too  much  charity !  "  burst  out 
Polly,  forgetting  her  shyness  all  at  once. 

u  Oh,  indeed !  Well,  I  take  the  liberty  to  differ 
from  you,"  returned  Trix,  putting  up  her  glass,  and 


Needles  and  Tongues.  219 

bestowing  upon  Polly  her  most  "toploftical  stare," 
as  the  girls  called  it. 

I  regret  to  say  that  Polly  never  could  talk  with  or 
be  near  Trix  without  feeling  irritated  and  combative. 
She  tried  to  conquer  this  feeling,  but  she  could  n't,  and 
when  Trix  put  on  airs,  Polly  felt  an  intense  desire  to 
box  her  ears.  That  eye-glass  was  her  especial  aver 
sion,  for  Trix  was  no  more  near-sighted  than  herself, 
but  pretended  to  be  because  it  was  the  fashion,  and  at 
times  used  the  innocent  glass  as  a  weapon  with  which 
to  put  down  an}7  one  who  presumed  to  set  themselves 
up.  The  supercilious  glance  which  accompanied  her 
ironically  polite  speech  roused  Polly,  who  answered 
with  sudden  color  and  the  kindling  of  the  eyes  that 
always  betrayed  a  perturbed  spirit. 

u  I  don't  think  many  of  us  would  enjoy  that  selfish 
sort  of  peace,  while  little  children  starve,  and  girls  no 
older  than  us  kill  themselves  because  their  dreadful 
poverty  leaves  them  no  choice  but  sin  or  death." 

A  sudden  lull  took  place,  for,  though  Polly  did  not 
raise  her  voice,  it  was  full  of  indignant  emotion,  and 
the  most  frivolous  girl  there  felt  a  little  thrill  of  sym 
pathy  ;  for  the  most  utterly  fashionable  life  does  not 
kill  the  heart  out  of  women,  till  years  of  selfish 
pleasure  have  passed  over  their  heads.  Trix  was 
ashamed  of  herself ;  but  she  felt  the  same  antagonism 
toward  Polly,  that  Polly  did  toward  her ;  and,  being 
less  generous,  took  satisfaction  in  plaguing  "her. 
Polly  did  not  know  that  the  secret  of  this  was  the 
fact  that  Tom  often  held  her  up  as  a  model  for  his 
-fiancee  to  follow,  which  caused  that  young  lady  to  dis 
like  her  more  than  ever. 


220  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

"  Half  the  awful  stories  in  the  papers  are  made  up 
for  a  sensation,  and  it's  absurd  to  believe  them,  unless 
one  likes  to  be  harrowed  up.  I  don't ;  and  as  for 
peace,  I  'm  not  likely  to  get  much,  while  I  have  Tom 
to  look  after,"  said  Trix,  with  an  aggravating  laugh. 

Polly's  needle  snapped  in  two,  but  she  did  not 
mind  it,  as  she  said,  with  a  look  that  silenced  even 
sharp-tongued  Trix,  — 

"  I  can't  help  believing  what  my  own  eyes  and  ears 
have  seen  and  heard.  You  lead  such  safe  and  happy 
lives,  you  can't  imagine  the  misery  that  is  all  round 
you ;  but  if  you  could  get  a  glimpse  of  it,  it  would 
make  your  hearts  ache,  as  it  has  mine." 

u  Do  you  suffer  from  heartache?  Some  one  hinted 
as  much  to  me,  but  you  looked  so  well,  I  could  n't 
believe  it." 

Now  that  was  cruel  in  Trix,  more  cruel  than  any 
one  guessed;  but  girls'  tongues  can  deal  wounds  as 
sharp  and  sudden  as  the  slender  stiletto  Spanish 
women  wear  in  their  hair,  and  Polly  turned  pale,  as 
those  words  stabbed  her.  Belle  saw  it,  and  rushed  to 
the  rescue  with  more  good- will  than  wisdom. 

"  Nobody  ever  accused  you  of  having  any  heart  to 
ache  with.  Polly  and  I  are  not  old  enough  yet  to  get 
tough  and  cool,  and  we  are  still  silly  enough  to  pity 
unhappy  people,  Tom  Shaw  especially,"  added  Belle, 
under  her  breath. 

That  was  a  two-edged  thrust,  for  Trix  was  decidedly 
an  old  girl,  and  Tom  was  generally  regarded  as  a 
hapless  victim.  Trix  turned  red ;  but  before  she 
could  load  and  fire  again,  Emma  Davenport,  who 
laboied  under  the  delusion  that  this  sort  of  skirmish* 


Needles  and  Tongues.  221 

ing  was  ill-natured,  and  therefore  ill-bred,  spoke  up  in 
her  pleasant  way ,  — 

"  Speaking  of  pitying  the  poor,  I  always  wonder 
why  it  is  that  we  all  like  to  read  and  cry  over  their 
troubles  in  books,  but  when  we  have  the  real  thing 
before  us,  we  think  it  is  uninteresting  and  disagree 
able." 

"  It 's  the  genius  that  gets  into  the  books,  which 
makes  us  like  the  poverty,  I  fancy.  But  I  don't  quite 
agree  that  the  real  thing  is  n't  interesting.  I  think  it 
would  be,  if  we  knew  how  to  look  at  and  feel  it,"  said 
Poll}',  very  quietly,  as  she  pushed  her  chair  out  of  the 
arctic  circle  of  Miss  Perkins,  into  the  temperate  one 
of  friendly  Emma. 

"  But  how  shall  we  learn  that?  I  don't  see  what 
we  girls  can  do,  more  than  we  do  now.  We  have  n't 
much  money  for  such  things,  should  n't  know  how  to 
use  it  if  we  had  ;  and  it  is  n't  proper  for  us  to  go  pok 
ing  into  dirty  places,  to  hunt  up  the  needy.  '  Going 
about  doing  good,  in  pony  phaetons/  as  somebody 
says,  may  succeed  in  England,  but  it  won't  work 
here,"  said  Fanny,  who  had  begun,  lately,  to  think  a 
good  deal  of  some  one  beside  herself,  and  so  found 
her  interest  in  her  fellow-beings  increasing  daily. 

"  We  can't  do  much,  perhaps,  just  yet ;  but  still 
there  are  things  left  undone  that  naturally  fall  to  us. 
I  know  a  house,"  said  Polly,  sewing  busily  as  she 
talked,  "  where  every  servant  who  enters  it  becomes 
an  object  of  interest  to  the  mistress  and  her  daugh 
ters.  These  women  are  taught  good  habits,  books 
are  put  where  they  can  get  them,  sensible  amusements 
are  planned  for  them  sometimes,  and  they  soon  feel 


222  An  Old- Fashioned  Girl. 

that  tLcy  are  not  considered  mere  scrubs,  to  do  as 
much  work  as  possible,  for  as  little  money  as  possi 
ble,  but  helpers  in  the  family,  who  are  loved  and  re 
spected  in  proportion  to  their  faithfulness.  This  lady 
feels  her  duty  to  them,  owns  it,  and  does  it,  as  con 
scientiously  as  she  wants  them  to  do  theirs  by  her ; 
and  that  is  the  way  it  ought  to  be,  I  think." 

As  Polly  paused,  several  keen  eyes  discovered  that 
Emma's  cheeks  were  very  red,  and  saw  a  smile  lurk 
ing  in  the  corners  of  the  mouth  that  tried  to  look 
demure,  which  told  them  who  Polly  meant. 

"  Do  the  Biddies  all  turn  out  saints  in  that  well- 
regulated  family?"  asked  the  irrepressible  Trix. 

"  No ;  few  of  us  do  that,  even  in  the  parlor ;  but 
every  one  of  the  Biddies  is  better  for  being  there, 
whether  they  are  grateful  or  not.  I  ought  not  to 
have  mentioned  this,  perhaps,  but  I  wanted  to  show 
you  one  thing  that  we  girls  can  do.  We  all  complain 
about  bad  servants,  most  as  much  as  if  we  were 
house-keepers  ourselves  ;  but  it  never  occurs  to  us  to 
try  and  mend  the  matter,  by  getting  up  a  better  spirit 
between  mistress  and  maid.  Then  there  's  another 
thing  we  can  do,"  added  Polly,  warming  up.  "  Most 
of  us  find  money  enough  for  our  little  vanities  and 
pleasures,  but  feel  dreadfully  poor  when  we  come  to 
pay  for  work,  sewing  especially.  Could  n't  we  give 
up  a  few  of  the  vanities,  and  pay  the  seamstresses 
better?" 

"  I  declare  I  will ! "  cried  Belle,  whose  conscience 
suddenly  woke,  and  smote  her  for  beating  down  the 
woman  who  did  her  plain  sewing,  in  order  that  she 
might  have  an  extra  flounce  on  a  new  dress. 


Needles  and  Tongues.  223 

w  Belle  has  got  a  virtuous  fit ;  pity  it  won't  last  a 
week,"  said  Trix. 

"Wait  and  see,"  retorted  Belle,  resolving  that  it 
should  last,  just  to  disappoint  "  that  spiteful  minx," 
as  she  sweetly  called  her  old  school-mate. 

"  Now  we  shall  behold  Belle  galloping  away  at  a 
great  pace,  on  her  new  hobby.  I  should  n't  be  sur 
prised  to  hear  of  her  preaching  in  the  jail,  adopting 
a  nice  dirty  little  orphan,  or  passing  round  tracts  at  a 
Woman's  Rights  meeting,"  said  Trix,  who  never 
could  forgive  Belle  for  having  a  lovely  complexion, 
and  so  much  hair  of  her  own,  that  she  never  patron 
ized  either  rats,  mice,  waterfalls,  switches  or  puff, 
combs. 

"  Well,  I  might  do  worse  ;  and  I  think,  of  the  two, 
I  'd  rather  amuse  myself  so,  than  as  some  young 
ladies  do,  who  get  into  the  papers  for  their  pranks," 
returned  Belle,  with  a  moral  air. 

"  Suppose  we  have  a  little  recess,  and  rest  while 
Polly  plays  to  us.  Will  you,  Polly  ?  It  will  do  us 
good  ;  they  all  want  to  hear  you,  and  begged  I  'd  ask." 

"  Then  I  will,  with  pleasure  " ;  and  Polly  went  to 
the  piano  with  such  obliging  readiness,  that  several 
reproachful  glances  fell  upon  Trix,  who  did  n't  need 
her  glass  to  see  them. 

Polly  was  never  too  sad,  perturbed,  or  lazy  to  sing, 
for  it  was  almost  as  easy  to  her  as  breathing,  and 
seemed  the  most  natural  outlet  for  her  emotions.  For 
a  minute  her  hands  wandered  over  the  keys,  as  if  un 
certain  what  to  play ;  then,  falling  into  a  sad,  sweet 
strain,  she  sang  "The  Bridge  of  Sighs."  Polly 
did  n't  know  why  she  chose  it,  but  the  instinct  seemed 


224  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

to  have  been  a  true  one,  for,  old  as  the  song  was,  it 
went  straight  to  the  hearts  of  the  hearers,  and  Polly 
sung  it  better  than  she  ever  had  before,  for  now  the 
memory  of  little  Jane  lent  it  a  tender  pathos  which 
no  art  could  give.  It  did  them  all  good,  for  music  is 
a  beautiful  magician,  and  few  can  resist  its  power. 
The  girls  were  touched  by  the  appeal ;  Polly  was 
lifted  out  of  herself,  and  when  she  turned  round,  the 
softened  look  on  all  the  faces  told  her  that  for  the 
moment  foolish  differences  and  frivolous  beliefs  were 
forgotten  in  the  one  womanly  sentiment  of  pity  for 
the  wrongs  and  woes  of  which  the  listeners'  happy 
lives  were  ignorant. 

"  That  song  always  makes  me  cry,  and  feel  as  if  I 
had  no  right  to  be  so  comfortable,"  said  Belle,  openly 
wiping  her  eyes  on  a  crash  towel. 

"  Fortunately  such  cases  are  very  rare,"  said  an 
other  young  lady,  who  seldom  read  the  newspapers. 

"  I  wish  they  were,  but  I  'm  afraid  they  are  not ; 
for  only  three  weeks  ago,  I  saw  a  girl  younger  than 
any  of  us,  and  no  worse,  who  tried  to  destroy  herself, 
simply  because  she  was  so  discouraged,  sick,  and 
poor,"  said  Polly. 

"  Do  tell  about  her,"  cried  Belle,  eagerly. 

Feeling  that  the  song  had  paved  the  way  for  the 
story,  and  given  her  courage  to  tell  it,  Polly  did  tell 
it,  and  must  have  done  it  well,  for  the  girls  stopped 
work  to  listen,  and  when  she  ended,  other  eyes  beside 
warm-hearted  Belle's  were  wet.  Trix  looked  quite 
subdued ;  Miss  Perkins  thawed  to  such  a  degree,  that 
something  glittered  on  her  hand  as  she  bent  over  the 
pink  pinafore  again,  better  and  brighter  than  her 


Needles  and  Tongues.  225 

biggest  diamond ;  Einma  got  up  and  went  to  Polly 
with  a  face  full  of  affectionate  respect,  while  Fanny, 
moved  by  a  sudden  impulse,  caught  up  a  costly 
Sevres  plate  that  stood  on  the  etagpre,  and  laying  a 
fire-dollar  bill  in  it,  passed  it  round,  quoting  Polly's 
words,  — 

"  Girls,  I  know  you  '11  like  to  help  poor  little  Jenny 
k  begin  again,  and  do  better  tjhis  time.' " 

It  was  good  to  see  how  quickly  the  pretty  purses 
were  out,  how  generously  each  gave  of  its  abundance, 
and  what  hearty  applause  broke  from  the  girls,  as 
Belle  laid  down  her  gold  thimble,  saying  with  an  April 
face,— 

u  There,  take  that ;  I  never  have  any  money,  some 
how  it  won't  stay  with  me,  but  I  can't  let  the  plate 
pass  me  this  time." 

When  Fanny  brought  the  contributions  to  Polly, 
she  just  gathered  it  up  in  her  two  hands  with  such  a 
glad,  grateful  face,  the  girls  wished  they  had  had 
more  to  give. 

"  I  can't  thank  you  enough,"  she  said,  with  an  elo 
quent  little  choke  in  her  voice.  "This  will  help 
Jenny  very  much  ;  but  the  way  in  which  it  was  done 
will  do  her  more  good  than  double  the  money,  because 
it  will  prove  to  her  that  she  is  n't  without  friends,  and 
make  her  feel  that  there  is  a  place  in  the  world  for  her. 
Let  her  work  for  you  in  return  for  this  ;  she  don't  ask 
alms,  she  only  wants  employment  and  a  little  kind 
ness,  and  the  best  charity  we  can  bestow  is  to  see 
that  she  has  both." 

"  I  '11  give  her  as  much  sewing  as  she  wants,  and 
she  can  stay  at  our  house  while  she  does  it,  if  she 

16 


226  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

needs  a  home,"  said  Trix,  in  a  spasm  of  benevo- 
lence. 

"  She  does  n't  need  a  home,  thank  you  ;  Miss  Mills 
has  given  half  of  hers,  and  considers  Jane  her 
child,"  answered  Polly,  with  proud  satisfaction  in  tbo 
fact. 

"  What  an  old  dear  !  "  cried  Belle. 

"  I  want  to  know  her.    May  I  ?  "  whispered  Emma. 

"Oh,  yes;  I'm  glad  to  make  her  known  to  any 
one.  She  is  a  quiet  little  old  lady,  but  she  does  one 
heaps  of  good,  and  shows  you  how  to  be  charitable  in 
the  wisest  way." 

"  Do  tell  us  about  it.  I  'm  sure  I  want  to  do  my 
duty,  but  it 's  such  a  muddle,  I  don't  know  how,"  said 
Belle. 

Then,  quite  naturally,  the  conversation  fell  upon 
the  great  work  that  none  should  be  too  busy  to  think 
of,  and  which  few  are  too  young  or  too  poor  to  help 
on  with  their  mite.  The  faces  grew  more  earnest,  the 
fingers  flew  faster,  as  the  quick  young  hearts  and 
brains  took  in  the  new  facts,  ideas,  and  plans  that 
grew  out  of  the  true  stories,  the  sensible  hints,  the 
successful  efforts  which  Polly  told  them,  fresh  from 
the  lips  of  Miss  Mills  ;  for,  of  late,  Polly  had  talked 
much  with  the  good  lady,  and  learned  quickly  the  les 
sons  her  unselfish  life  conveyed.  The  girls  found  this 
more  interesting  than  gossip,  partly  owing  to  its 
novelty,  doubtless ;  but  the  enthusiasm  was  sincere 
while  it  lasted,  an  I  did  them  good.  Many  of  them 
forgot  all  about  it  in  a  week,  but  Polly's  effort  was 
not  lost,  for  Emma,  Belle,  and  Fanny  remained  firm 
friends  to  Jane,  so  kindly  helping  her  that  the  poor 


Needles  and  Tongues.  227 

child  felt  as  if  she  had  indeed  been  born  again,  into  a 
new  and  happy  world. 

Not  till  long  afterward  did  Polly  see  how  much 
good  this  little  effort  had  done  her,  for  the  first  small 
sacrifice  of  this  sort  leads  the  way  to  others,  and  a 
single  hand's  turn  given  heartily  to  the  world's  great 
work  helps  one  amazingly  with  one's  own  small  tasks. 
Polly  found  this  out  as  her  life  slowly  grew  easier  and 
brighter,  and  the  beautiful  law  of  compensation  gave 
her  better  purposes  arid  pleasures  than  any  she  had 
lost.  The  parents  of  some  of  her  pupils  were  persons 
of  real  refinement,  and  such  are  always  quick  to  per 
ceive  the  marks  of  culture  in  others,  no  matter  where 
they  find  them.  These,  attracted  first  by  Polly's 
cheerful  face,  modest  manners  and  faithful  work,  soon 
found  in  her  something  more  than  a  good  teacher ; 
they  found  a  real  talent  for  music,  an  eager  desire  for 
helpful  opportunities,  and  a  heart  grateful  for  the 
kindly  sympathy  that  makes  rough  places  smooth. 
Fortunately  those  who  have  the  skill  to  detect  these 
traits  also  possess  the  spirit  to  appreciate  and  often 
the  power  to  serve  and  develop  them.  In  ways  so 
delicate  that  the  most  sensitive  pride  could  not 
resent  the  favor,  these  true  gentlefolk  showed  Polly 
their  respect  and  regard,  put  many  pleasures  in  her 
way,  and  when  they  paid  her  for  her  work,  gave  her 
also  the  hearty  thanks  that  takes  away  all  sense  of 
degradation  even  from  the  humblest  service,  for  money 
so  earned  and  paid  sweetens  the  daily  bread  it  buys, 
and  makes  the  mutual  obligation  a  mutual  benefit  and 
pleasure. 

A  few  such  patrons  did  much  for  Polly,  and  the 


228  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

music  she  gave  them  had  an  undertone  of  gratitude 
that  left  blithe  echoes  in  those  great  houses,  which 
money  could  not  buy. 

Then,  as  her  butterfly  acquaintances  deserted  her, 
she  found  her  way  into  a  hive  of  friendly  bees,  who 
welcomed  her,  and  showed  her  how  to  find  the  honey 
that  keeps  life  sweet  and  wholesome.  Through  Miss 
Mills,  who  was  the  counsellor  and  comforter  of 
several,  Polly  came  to  know  a  little  sisterhood  of 
busy,  happy,  independent  girls,  who  each  had  a  pur 
pose  to  execute,  a  talent  to  develop,  an  ambition  to 
achieve,  and  brought  to  the  work  patience  and  perse 
verance,  hope  and  courage.  Here  Polly  found  her 
place  at  once,  for  in  this  little  world  love  and  liberty 
prevailed ;  talent,  energy,  and  character  took  the  first 
rank ;  money,  fashion,  and  position  were  literally  no 
where ;  for  here,  as  in  the  big  world  outside,  genius 
seemed  to  blossom  best  when  poverty  was  head  gar 
dener.  Young  teachers,  doing  much  work  for  little 
Pav  5  young  artists,  trying  to  pencil,  paint,  or  carve 
their  way  to  Rome ;  young  writers,  burning  to  dis 
tinguish  themselves ;  young  singers,  dreaming  of 
triumph,  great  as  those  of  Jenny  LindJ  and  some 
who  tried  to  conquer  independence,  armed  only  with 
a  needle,  like  poor  Jane.  All  these  helped  Polly 
as  unconsciously  as  she  helped  them,  for  purpose  and 
principle  are  the  best  teachers  we  can  have,  and  the 
want  of  them  makes  half  the  women  of  America  what 
they  are,  restless,  aimless*  frivolous,  and  sick. 

To  outsiders  that  was  a  very  hard-working  and 
uneventful  winter  to  Polly.  She  thought  so  herself; 
but  as  spring  came  on,  the  seed  of  new  virtues,  planted 


Needles  and  Tongues.  229 

in  the  winter  time,  and  ripened  by  the  sunshine  of 
endeavor,  began  to  bud  in  Polly's  nature,  betray 
ing  their  presence  to  others  by  the  added  strength 
and  sweetness  of  her  character,  long  before  she  her 
self  discovered  these  May  flowers  that  had  blossomed 
for  her  underneath  the  snow. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

FORBIDDEN  FRUIT. 

((T'M  perfectly  aching  for  some  fun,"  said  Polly  to 
•*•  herself,  as  she  opened  her  window  one  morning, 
and  the  sunshine  and  frosty  air  set  her  blood  dancing, 
and  her  eyes  sparkling  with  youth,  health,  and  over 
flowing  spirits.  "  I  really  must  break  out  somewhere, 
and  have  a  good  time  ;  it 's  quite  impossible  to  keep 
steady  any  longer.  Now  what  will  I  do  ?  "  Polly 
sprinkled  crumbs  to  the  doves,  who  came  daily  to  be 
fed ;  and  while  she  watched  the  gleaming  necks  and 
rosy  feet,  she  racked  her  brain  to  devise  some  unus 
ually  delightful  way  of  enjoying  herself,  for  she  really 
had  bottled  up  her  spirits  so  long,  they  were  in  a 
state  of  uncontrollable  effervescence. 

"  I  '11  go  to  the  opera,"  she  suddenly  announced  to 
the  doves.  "It's  expensive,  I  know,  but  it's  re 
markably  good,  and  music  is  such  a  treat  to  me, 
Yes,  I'll  get  two  tickets  as  cheap  as  I  can,  send  a 
note  to  Will,  —  poor  lad,  he  needs  fun  as  much  as  I 
do,  —  and  we  '11  go  and  have  a  nice  time  in  some  cor 
ner,  as  Charles  Lamb  and  his  sister  used  to." 

With  that,  Polly  slammed  down  the  window,  to  the 
dismay  of  her  gentle  little  pensioners,  and  began  to 


Forbidden  Fruit.  231 

fly  about  with  great  energy,  singing  and  talking  to 
herself,  as  if  it  was  impossible  to  keep  quiet.  She 
started  early  to  her  first  lesson,  that  she  might  have 
time  to  buy  the  tickets,  hoping,  as  she  put  a  five  dol 
lar  bill  into  her  purse,  that  they  wouldn't  be  very 
high,  for  she  felt  that  she  was  not  in  a  mood  to  resist 
temptation.  But  she  was  spared  any  struggle,  for 
when  she  reached  the  place,  the  ticket  office  was 
blocked  up  by  eager  purchasers,  and  the  disappointed 
faces  that  turned  away  told  Polly  there  was  no  hope 
for  her. 

44  Well,  I  don't  care  ;  I  '11  go  some^where,  for  I  will 
have  my  fun,"  she  said,  with  great  determination,  for 
disappointment  only  seemed  to  whet  her  appetite. 
But  the  play-bills  showed  her  nothing  inviting,  and 
she  was  forced  to  go  away  to  her  work  with  the  money 
burning  her  pocket,  and  all  manner  of  wild  schemes 
floating  in  her  head.  At  noon,  instead  of  going 
home  to  dinner,  she  went  and  took  an  ice,  trying  to 
feel  very  gay  and  festive  all  by  herself.  It  was  rather 
a  failure,  however ;  and  after  a  tour  of  the  picture 
shops,  she  went  to  give  Maud  a  lesson,  feeling  that  it 
was  very  hard  to  quench  her  longings,  and  subside 
into  a  prim  little  music  teacher. 

Fortunately  she  did  not  have  to  do  violence  to  her 
feelings  very  long,  for  the  first  thing  Fanny  said  to 
her  was,  — 

44  Can  you  go?" 

44  Where?" 

44  Did  n't  you  get  my  note  ?  " 

44 1  did  n't  go  home  to  dinner." 

44  Tom  wants  us  to  go  to  the  opera  to-night  and  —  " 


232  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

Fan  got  no  further,  for  Polly  uttered  a  cry  of  rapture 
and  clasped  her  hands. 

"Go?  Of  course  I  will ;  I  Ve  been  dying  to  go  all 
day ;  tried  to  get  tickets  this  morning  and  could  n't ; 
been  fuming  about  it  ever  since ;  and  now  —  oh,  how 
splendid ! "  and  Polly  could  not  restrain  an  ecslatia 
skip,  for  this  burst  of  joy  rather  upset  her. 

"  Well,  you  come  to  tea,  and  we  '11  dress  together, 
and  go  all  comfortable  with  Tom,  who  is  in  a  heavenly 
frame  of  mind  to-day." 

"  I  must  run  home  and  get  my  things,"  said  Polly, 
resolving  on  the  spot  to  buy  the  nicest  pair  of  gloves 
the  city  afforded. 

"You  shall  have  my  white  cloak,  and  any  other 
little  rigging  you  want.  Tommy  likes  to  have  his 
ladies  a  credit  to  him,  you  know,"  said  Fanny,  de 
parting  to  take  a  beauty  sleep. 

Polly  instantly  decided  that  she  would  n't  borrow 
Becky's  best  bonnet,  as  she  at  first  intended,  but  get 
a  new  one,  for  in  her  present  excited  state,  no  extrava 
gance  seemed  too  prodigal  in  honor  of  this  grand 
occasion.  I  am  afraid  that  Maud's  lesson  was  not  as 
thorough  as  it  should  have  been,  for  Polly's  head  was 
such  a  chaos  of  bonnets,  gloves,  opera-cloaks  and  fans, 
that  Maud  blundered  through,  murdering  time  and 
tune  at  her  own  sweet  will.  The  instant  it  was  over, 
Polly  rushed  away  and  bought  not  only  the  kids,  but 
a  bonnet  frame,  a  bit  of  illusion,  and  a  pink  crape 
rose,  which  had  tempted  her  for  weeks  in  a  certain 
shop  window;  then  home  and  to  work  with  all  the 
skill  and  speed  of  a  distracted  milliner. 

"I  'm  rushing  madly  into  expense,  I  'm  afraid ;  but 


Forbidden  Fruit.  233 

the  fit  is  on  me,  and  I  '11  eat  bread  and  water  for  a 
week  to  make  up  for  it.  I  must  look  nice,  for  Tom 
seldom  takes  me,  and  ought  to  be  gratified  when  he 
does.  I  want  to  do  like  other  girls,  just  for  once, 
and  enjoy  m}rself  without  thinking  about  right  and 
wrong.  Now  a  bit  of  pink  ribbon  to  tie  it  with,  and 
I  shall  be  done  in  time  to  do  up  my  best  collar,"  she 
said,  turning  her  boxes  topsy-turvy  for  the  necessary 
ribbon,  in  that  delightful  flurry  which  young  ladies 
feel  on  such  occasions. 

It  is  my  private  opinion,  that  the  little  shifts  and 
struggles  we  poor  girls  have  to  undergo  beforehand, 
give  a  peculiar  relish  to  our  fun  when  we  get  it.  This 
fact  will  account  for  the  rapturous  mood  in  which 
Polly  found  herself  when,  after  making  her  bonnet, 
washing  and  ironing  her  best  set,  blacking  her  boots 
and  mending  her  fan,  she  at  last,  like  Consuelo,  "  put 
on  a  little  dress  of  black  silk,"  and  with  the  smaller 
adornments  pinned  up  in  a  paper,  started  for  the 
Shaws',  finding  it  difficult  to  walk  decorously,  when 
her  heart  was  dancing  in  her  bosom. 

Maud  happened  to  be  playing  a  redowa  up  in  the 
parlor,  and  Polly  came  prancing  into  the  room  so 
evidently  spoiling  for  a  dance,  that  Tom,  who  was 
there,  found  it  impossible  to  resist  catching  her  about 
the  waist,  and  putting  her  through  the  most  intricate 
evolutions,  till  Maud's  fingers  gave  out. 

"  That  was  splendid !  Oh,  Tom,  thank  you  so 
much  for  asking  me  to-night.  I  feel  just  like  having 
a  regular  good  time,"  cried  Polly,  when  she  stopped, 
with  her  hat  hanging  round  her  neck,  and  her  hair 
looking  as  if  she  had  been  out  in  a  high  wind. 


234  An   Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

"  Glad  of  it.  I  felt  so  myself,  and  thought  we  'd 
have  a  jolly  little  party  all  in  the  family,"  said  Tom. 
looking  much  gratified  at  her  delight. 

"Is  Trix  sick?"  asked  Polly. 

"  Gone  to  New  York  for  a  week." 

"  Ah,  when  the  cat 's  away  the  mice  will  play." 

"  Exactly ;  come  and  have  another  turn." 

Before  they  could  start,  however,  the  awful  spec 
tacle  of  a  little  dog  trotting  out  of  the  room  with  a 
paper  parcel  in  his  mouth,  made  Polly  clasp  her  hands 
with  the  despairing  cry,  — 

"  My  bonnet !  oh,  my  bonnet ! " 

"Where?  what?  which?"  and  Tom  looked  about 
him  bewildered. 

"  Snip's  got  it.     Save  it !  save  it ! " 

"  I  will ! "  and  Tom  gave  chase  with  more  vigor 
than  discretion. 

Snip,  evidently  regarding  it  as  a  game  got  up  for 
his  especial  benent,  enjoyed  the  race  immensely,  and 
scampered  all  over  the  house,  shaking  the  precious 
parcel  like  a  rat,  while  his  master  ran  and  whistled, 
commanded  and  coaxed  in  vain.  Polly  followed,  con 
sumed  with  anxiety,  and  Maud  laughed  till  Mrs.  Shaw 
sent  down  to  know  who  was  in  hysterics.  A  piteous 
yelp  from  the  lower  regions  at  last  announced  that  the 
thief  was  captured,  and  Tom  appeared,  bearing  Snip 
by  the  nape,  of  the  neck  in  one  hand,  and  Polly's  cher 
ished  bonnet  in  the  other. 

"  The  lit\,le  scamp  was  just  going  to  worry  it  when 
[  grabbed  him.  I  'm  afraid  he  has  eaten  one  of  your 
gloves ;  I  can't  find  it,  and  this  one  is  pretty  well 
chewed  up,"  said  Tom,  bereaving  Snip  of  the  torn 
kid,  to  which  he  still  pertinaciously  clung. 


Forbidden  Fruit.  235 

"  Serves  me  right,"  said  Polly,  with  a  groan.  "  I  'd 
no  business  to  get  a  new  pair,  but  I  wanted  to  be 
extra  gorgeous  to-night,  and  this  is  my  punishment 
for  such  mad  extravagance." 

44  Was  there  anything  else?"  asked  Tom. 

"  Only  my  best  cuffs  and  collar ;  you  '11  probably 
find  them  in  the  coal-bin,"  said  Polly,  with  the  calm 
ness  of  despair. 

"  I  saw  some  little  white  things  on  the  dining-room 
floor  as  I  raced  through.  Go  get  them,  Maud,  and 
we  '11  repair  damages,"  said  Tom,  shutting  the  culprit 
into  the  boot  closet,  where  he  placidly  rolled  himself 
up  and  went  to  sleep. 

"  They  ain't  hurt  a  bit,"  proclaimed  Maud,  restoring 
the  lost  treasures. 

"  Neither  is  my  bonnet,  for  which  I  'm  deeply  grate 
ful,"  said  Polly,  who  had  been  examining  it  with  a 
solicitude  which  made  Tom's  eyes  twinkle. 

"  So  am  I,  for  it  strikes  me  that  is  an  uncommonly 
4  nobby '  little  affair,"  he  said,  approvingly.  Tom  had 
a  weakness  for  pale  pink  roses,  and  perhaps  Polly 
.knew  it. 

"  I  'm  afraid  it's  too  gay,"  said  Polly,  with  a  dubious 
look. 

"  Not  a  bit ;  sort  of  bridal,  you  know.  Must  be 
becoming  ;  put  it  on,  and  let 's  see." 

44 1  would  n't  for  the  world,  with  my  hair  all  tumbling 
down.  Don't  look  at  me  till  I'm  respectable,  and 
don't  tell  any  one  how  I  Ve  been  acting.  I  think  1 
must  be  a  little  crazy  to-night,"  said  Polly,  gathering 
up  her  rescued  finery,  and  preparing  to  go  and  find 
Fan. 

44  Lunacy  is  mighty  becoming,  Polly  ;  try  it  again," 


236  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girt. 

answered  Tom,  watching  her  as  she  went  laughing 
away,  looking  all  the  prettier  for  her  dishevelment. 
"  Dress  that  girl  up,  and,  she  'd  be  a  raving,  tearing 
beauty,"  added  Tom  to  Maud,  in  a  lower  tone,  as  he 
took  her  into  the  parlor  under  his  arm. 

Polly  heard  it,  and  instantly  resolved  to  be  as 
44  raving  and  as  tearing  "  as  her  means  would  allow, 
44  just  for  one  night,"  she  said,  as  she  peeped  over  the 
banisters,  glad  to  see  that  the  dance  and  the  race 
had  taken  the  "  band-boxy  "  air  out  of  Tom's  elegant 
array. 

I  deeply  regret  being  obliged  to  shock  the  eyes  and 
ears  of  such  of  my  readers  as  have  a  prejudice  in 
favor  of  pure  English,  by  expressions  like  the  above ; 
but,  having  rashly  undertaken  to  write  a  little  story 
about  Young  America,  for  Young  America,  I  feel 
bound  to  depict  my  honored  patrons  as  faithfully  as 
my  limited  powers  permit ;  otherwise,  I  must  expect 
the  crushing  criticism,  "  Well,  I  dare  say  it 's  all 
very  prim  and  proper,  but  it  is  n't  a  bit  like  us,"  and 
never  hope  to  arrive  at  the  distinction  of  finding  the 
covers  of  "An  Old-Fashioned  Girl"  the  dirtiest  in 
the  library. 

The  friends  had  a  social  "  cup  o' tea  "up  stairs, 
which  Polly  considered  the  height  of  luxury  ;  and  then 
each  took  a  mirror,  and  proceeded  to  prink  to  her 
heart's  content.  The  earnestness  with  which  Polly 
made  her  toilet  that  night,  was  delightful  to  behold. 
Feeling  in  a  daring  mood,  she  released  her  pretty 
hair  from  the  braids  in  which  she  usually  wore  it,  and 
permitted  the  curls  to  display  themselves  in  all  theii 
brown  abundance,  especially  several  dangerous  little 


Forbidden  Frmt.  237 

ones  about  the  temples  and  forehead.  The  putting 
on  of  the  rescued  collar  and  cuffs  was  a  task  which 
absorbed  her  whole  mind  ;  so  was  the  settling  of  a 
minute  bit  of  court-plaster,  just  to  the  left  of  the 
dimple  in  her  chin,  an  unusual  piece  of  coquetry,  in 
which  Polly  would  not  have  indulged,  if  an  almost 
invisible  scratch  had  not  given  her  an  excuse  for 
doing  it.  The  white,  down- trimmed  cloak,  with  cer 
tain  imposing  ornaments  on  the  hood,  was  assumed 
with  becoming  gravity,  and  draped  with  much  advanc 
ing  and  retreating  before  the  glass,  as  its  wearer  prac 
tised  the  true  Boston  gait,  elbows  back,  shoulders  for 
ward,  a  bend  and  a  slide,  occasionally  varied  by  a 
slight  skip.  But  when  that  bonnet  went  on,  Polly  ac 
tually  held  her  breath  till  it  was  safely  landed,  and  the 
pink  rose  bloomed  above  the  smooth  waves  of  hair, 
with  what  Fanny  called  "  a  ravishing  effect."  At  this 
successful  stage  of  affairs,  Polly  found  it  impossible 
to  resist  the  loan  of  a  pair  of  gold  bands  for  the 
wrists,  and  Fanny's  white  fan,  with  the  little  mirror  in 
the  middle. 

"  I  can  put  them  in  my  pocket  if  I  feel  too  much 
dressed,"  said  Polly,  as  she  snapped  on  the  bracelets  ; 
but,  after  a  wave  or  two  of  the  fan,  she  felt  that  it 
would  be  impossible  to  take  them  off  till  the  evening 
was  over,  so  enticing  was  their  glitter. 

Fanny  also  lent  her  a  pair  of  three-button  gloves, 
which  completed  her  content ;  and  when  Tom  greeted 
her  with  an  approving,  "  Here  's  a  sight  for  gods  and 
men  !  Why,  Polly,  you  're  gorgeous  !  "  she  felt  that 
her  "  fun  "  had  decidedly  begun. 

"Wouldn't    Polly  make    a    lovely  bride?"    said 


238  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

Maud,  who  was  revolving  about  the  two  girls,  trying 
to  decide  whether  she  would  have  a  blue  or  a  white 
cloak,  when  she  grew  up,  and  went  to  operas. 

"  Faith,  and  she  would  !  Allow  me  to  congratulate 
you,  Mrs. —  Sydney,"  added  Tom,  advancing  with 
his  wedding  reception  bow,  and  a  wicked  look  at 
Fanny. 

"  Go  away!  how  dare  you?"  cried  Polly,  growing 
much  redder  than  her  rose. 

"  If  we  are  going  to  the  opera  to-night,  perhaps 
we  'd  better  start,  as  the  carriage  has  been  waiting 
some  time/'  observed  Fan,  coolly,  and  sailed  out  of 
the  room  in  an  unusually  lofty  manner. 

"Don't  you  like  it,  Polly?"  whispered  Tom,  as 
they  went  down  stairs  together. 

"  Very  much." 

"  The  deuce  you  do !  " 

"  I  'm  so  fond  of  music,  how  can  I  help  it?  " 

"  I  'm  talking  about  Syd." 

"  Well,  I  'in  not." 

"  You  'd  better  try  for  him." 

"I '11  think  of  it." 

"Oh,  Polly,  Polly,  what  are  you  coming  to?" 

"  A  tumble  into  the  street,  apparently,"  answered 
Polly,  as  she  slipped  a  little  on  the  step ;  and  Torn 
stopped  in  the  middle  of  his  laugh,  to  pilot  her  safely 
into  the  carriage,  where  Fanny  was  already  seated. 

"  Here 's  richness !  "  said  Polly  to  herself,  as  she 
rolled  away,  feeling  as  Cinderella  probably  did  when 
the  pumpkin-coach  bore  her  to  the  first  ball,  only 
Polly  had  two  princes  to  think  about,  and  poor  Cin 
derella,  on  that  occasion,  had  not  even  one.  Fanny 


Forbidden  Fruit.  239 

did  n't  seem  inclined  to  talk  much,  and  Tom  would  go 
on  in  such  a  ridiculous  manner,  that  Polly  told  him 
she  would  n't  listen,  and  began  to  hum  bits  of  the 
opera.  But  she  heard  every  word,  nevertheless,  and 
resolved  to  pay  him  for  his  impertinence,  as  soon  as 
possible,  by  showing  him  what  he  had  lost. 

Their  seats  were  in  the  balcony,  and  hardly  were 
they  settled,  when,  by  one  of  those  remarkable  coinci 
dences  which  are  continually  occurring  in  our  youth, 
Mr.  Sydney,  and  Fanny's  old  friend,  Frank  Moore, 
took  their  places  just  behind  them. 

"  Oh,  you  villain  !  you  did  it  on  purpose,"  whispered 
Polly,  as  she  turned  from  greeting  their  neighbors, 
and  saw  a  droll  look  on  Tom's  face. 

u  I  give  you  my  word  I  did  n't.  It 's  the  law  oi 
attraction,  don't  you  see." 

"  If  Fan  likes  it,  I  don't  care." 

"  She  looks  resigned,  I  think." 

She  certainly  did,  for  she  was  talking  and  laughing 
in  the  gayest  manner  with  Frank,  while  Sydney  was 
covertly  surveying  Polly,  as  if  he  did  n't  quite  under 
stand  how  the  gray  grub  got  so  suddenly  transformed 
into  a  white  butterfly.  It  is  a  well-known  fact,  that 
dress  plays  a  very  important  part  in  the  lives  of  most 
women ;  and  even  the  most  sensible  cannot  help  own 
ing,  sometimes,  how  much  happiness  they  owe  to  a 
becoming  gown,  gracefully  arranged  hair,  or  a  bonnet 
which  brings  out  the  best  points  in  their  faces,  and 
puts  them  in  a  good  humor.  A  great  man  was  once 
heard  to  say,  that  what  first  attracted  him  to  his  well- 
beloved  wife,  was  seeing  her  in  a  white  muslin  dress, 
with  a  blue  shawl  on  the  chair  behind  her.  The  dress 


240  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

caught  his  eye,  and,  stopping  to  admire  that,  the 
wearer's  intelligent  conversation  interested  his  mind, 
and,  in  time,  the  woman's  sweetness  won  his  heart. 
It  is  not  the  finest  dress  which  does  the  most  execu 
tion,  I  fancy,  but  that  which  best  interprets  individual 
taste  and  character.  Wise  people  understand  this,  and 
everybody  is  more  influenced  by  it  than  they  know, 
perhaps.  Polly  was  not  very  wise,  but  she  felt  that 
every  one  about  her  found  something  more  attractive 
than  usual  in  her,  and  modestly  attributed  Tom's  de 
votion,  Sydney's  interest,  and  Frank's  undisguised 
admiration,  to  the  new  bonnet,  or,  more  likely,  to  that 
delightful  combination  of  cashmere,  silk,  and  swan's- 
down,  which,  like  Charity's  mantle,  seemed  to  cover 
a  multitude  of  sins  in  other  people's  eyes,  and  exalt 
the  little  music  teacher  to  the  rank  of  a  young  lady. 

Polly  scoffed  at  this  sort  of  thing  sometimes,  but 
to-night  she  accepted  it  without  a  murmur,  —  rather  en 
joyed  it  in  fact,  let  her  bracelets  shine  before  the  e}^es 
of  all  men,  and  felt  that  it  was  good  to  seem  comely  in 
their  sight.  She  forgot  one  thing,  however,  that  her 
own  happy  spirits  gave  the  crowning  charm  to  a 
picture  which  every  one  liked  to  see, —  a  blithe  young 
girl  enjoying  herself  with  all  her  heart.  The  music 
and  the  light,  costume  and  company,  excited  Polly, 
and  made  many  things  possible  which  at  most  times 
she  would  never  have  thought  of  saying  or  doing. 
She  did  not  mean  to  flirt ;  but  somehow  "  it  flirted 
itself,"  and  she  could  n't  help  it,  for,  once  started,  it 
was  hard  to  stop,  with  Tom  goading  her  on,  and  Syd 
ney  looking  at  her  with  that  new  interest  in  his  eyes. 
Polly's  flirting  was  such  a  very  mild  imitaiion  of  the 


Forbidden  Fruit.  241 

fashionable  thing,  that  Trix  &  Co.  would  not  have 
recognized  it ;  but  it  did  very  well  for  a  beginner,  and 
Polly  understood  that  night  wherein  the  fascination 
of  it  lay,  for  she  felt  as  if  she  had  found  a  new  gift  al  1 
of  a  sudden,  and  was  learning  how  to  use  it,  knowing 
Miat  it  was  dangerous,  yet  finding  its  chief  charm  in 
1 1 uit  very  fact. 

Tom  did  n't  know  what  to  make  of  her,  at  first, 
though  he  thought  the  change  uncommonly  becoming  ; 
and  finally  decided  that  Polly  had  taken  his  advice, 
and  was  "  setting  her  cap  for  Syd,"  as  he  gracefully 
expressed  it.  Sydney,  being  a  modest  man,  thought 
nothing  of  the  kind,  but  simply  fancied  that  little 
Polly  was  growing  up  to  be  a  very  charming  woman, 
lie  had  known  her  since  her  first  visit,  and  had  alwa}rs 
liked  the  child ;  this  winter  he  had  been  interested  in 
the  success  of  her  plans,  and  had  done  what  he  could 
to  help  them ;  but  he  never  thought  of  falling  in'  love 
with  Polly,  till  that  night.  Then  he  began  to  feel  that 
he  had  not  fully  appreciated  his  young  friend  ;  that 
she  was  such  a  bright  and  lovable  girl,  it  was  a  pity 
she  should  not  always  be  gay  and  pretty,  and  enjoy 
herself ;  that  she  would  make  a  capital  wife  for  some 
body,  and  perhaps  it  was  about  time  to  think  of  set 
tling,  as  his  sister  often  said.  These  thoughts  came 
and  went,  as  he  watched  the  white  figure  in  front,  felt 
the  enchantment  of  the  music,  and  found  everybody 
unusually  blithe  and  beautiful.  He  had  heard  the 
opera  many  times,  but  it  had  never  seemed  so  fine  be 
fore  ;  perhaps,  because  he  had  never  happened  to  have 
had  an  ingenuous  young  face  so  near  him,  in  which 
the  varying  emotions  born  of  the  music,  and  tho  ro 


242  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

mance  it  portrayed,  came  and  went  so  eloquently,  that 
it  was  impossible  to  help  reading  them.  Polly  did 
not  know  that  this  was  why  h§  leaned  down  so 
often  to  speak  to  her,  with  an  expression  which  she 
did  not  understand,  but  liked  very  much,  neverthe 
less. 

"  Don't  shut  your  eyes,  Polly ;  they  are  so  full  of 
mischief  to-night,  I  like  to  see  them,"  said  Tom,  after 
idly  wondering  for  a  minute,  if  she  knew  how  long  and 
curly  her  lashes  were. 

"  I  don't  wish  to  look  affected  ;  but  the  music  tells 
the  story  so  much  better  than  the  acting,  that  I  don't 
care  to  look  on,  half  the  time,"  answered  Polly,  hop 
ing  Tom  would  n't  see  the  tears  she  had  so  cleverly 
suppressed. 

"  Now  I  like  the  acting  best ;  the  music  is  all  very 
fine,  I  know ;  but  it  does  seem  so  absurd  for  people 
to  go  round  telling  tremendous  secrets  at  the  top  of 
their  voices.  I  can't  get  used  to  it." 

"  That 's  because  you  've  more  common-sense  than 
romance.  I  don't  mind  the  absurdity,  and  quite  long 
to  go  and  comfort  that  poor  girl  with  the  broken 
heart,"  said  Polly,  with  a  sigh,  as  the  curtain  fell  on 
a  most  afflicting  tableau. 

"  What's-his-name  is  a  great  jack  not  to  see  that 
she  adores  him ;  in  real  life,  we  fellows  ain't  such  bats 
as  all  that,"  observed  Tom,  who  had  decided  opinions 
on  many  subjects  that  he  knew  very  little  about,  and 
expressed  them  with  great  candor. 

A  curious  smile  passed  over  Polly's  face,  and  she 
put  up  her  glass  to  hide  her  eyes,  as  she  said,  — 

"  I  think  you  are  bats  sometimes  ;  but  women  are 


Forbidden  .Fruit.  243 

taught  to  wear  masks,  and  that  accounts  for  it,  I  sup 
pose." 

"•  I  don't  agree.  There  's  precious  little  masking 
nowadays  ;  wish  there  was  a  little  more,  sometimes," 
added  Tom,  thinking  of  several  blooming  damsels 
whose  beseeching  eyes  had  begged  him  not  to  leave 
them  to  wither  on  the  parent  stem. 

"  I  hope  not ;  but  I  guess  there 's  a  good  deal  more 
than  any  one  would  suspect." 

"  What  can  you  know  about  broken  hearts  and 
blighted  beings?"  asked  Sydney,  smiling  at  the  girl's 
pensive  tone. 

Polly  glanced  up  at  him,  and  her  face  dimpled  and 
slione  again,  as  she  answered,  laughing,  — 

"  Not  much  ;  my  time  is  to  come." 

"  I  can't  imagine  you  walking  about  the  world,  with 
your  back  hair  down,  bewailing  a  hard-hearted  lover," 
said  Tom. 

"  Neither  can  I ;  that  would  n't  be  my  way." 

"  No ;  Miss  Polly  would  let  concealment  prey  on 
her  damask  cheeks,  and  still  smile  on,  in  the  novel 
fashion  ;  or  turn  sister  of  charity,  and  nurse  the  heart 
less  lover  through  small-pox,  or  some  nice  contagi 
ous  disease,  and  die  seraphicall}-,  leaving  him  to  the 
agonies  of  remorse  and  tardy  love." 

Polly  gave  Sydney  an  indignant  look,  as  he  said 
that,  in  a  slow  satirical  way,  that  nettled  her  very 
much,  for  she  hated  to  be  thought  sentimental. 

"  That 's  not  my  way  either,"  she  said,  decidedly ; 
"  I  'd  try  to  outlive  it,  and  if  I  could  n't,  I  'd  try  to 
be  the  better  for  it.  Disappointment  need  n't  make 
a  woman  a  fool." 


244  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

"  Nor  an  old  maid,  if  she  's  pretty  and  good  ;  re 
member  that,  and  don't  visit  the  sins  of  one  block 
head  on  all  the  rest  of  mankind,"  said  Tom,  laughing 
at  her  earnestness. 

"  I  don't  think  there  is  the  slightest  possibility  of 
Miss  Polly's  being  either,"  added  Sydney,  with  a  look 
which  made  it  evident  that  concealment  had  not 
seriously  damaged  Polly's  damask  cheek  as  }Tet. 

"  There 's  Clara  Bird.  I  have  n't  seen  her  but  once 
since  she  was  married.  How  pretty  she  looks  !  "  and 
Polly  retired  behind  the  big  glass  again,  thinking  the 
chat  was  becoming  rather  personal. 

"  Now,  there  's  a  girl  who  tried  a  different  cure  for 
unrequited  affection  from  any  you  mention.  People 
say  she  was  fond  of  Belle's  brother  ;  he  did  n't  recip 
rocate,  but  went  off  to  India  to  spoil  his  constitution, 
so  Clara  married  a  man  twenty  years  older  than  she 
is,  and  consoles  herself  by  being  the  best-dressed 
woman  in  the  city." 

"  That  accounts  for  it,"  said  Polly,  when  Tom's 
long  whisper  ended. 

"  For  what?" 

"  The  tired  look  in  her  eyes." 

"  I  don't  see  it,"  said  Tom,  after  a  survey  through 
ttie  glass. 

"  Did  n't  expect  you  would." 

"  I  see  what  you  mean ;  a  good  many  women  have 
it  nowadays,"  said  Sydney,  over  Polly's  shoulder. 

"  What 's  she  tired  of?  the  old  gentleman?  "  asked 
Tom. 

"  And  herself,"  added  Polly. 

"  You  've  been  reading  French  novels,  I  know  you 


Forbidden  Fruit.  245 

have  ;  that 's  just  the  way  the  heroines  go  on,''  cried 
Tom. 

"  I  have  n't  read  one ;  but  it 's  evident  you  have, 
young  man,  and  you  'd  better  stop." 

"  I  don't  care  for  'em ;  only  do  it  to  keep  up 
my  French.  But  how  came  you  to  be  so  wise, 
ma'am  ?  " 

"  Observation,  sir.  I  like  to  watch  faces ;  and  I 
seldom  see  a  grown-up  one  that  looks  perfectly 
happy." 

"True  for  you,  Polly;  no  more  you  do,  now  1 
think  of  it.  I  don't  know  but  one  that  always  looks 
so,  and  there  it  is." 

u  Where?"  asked  Polly,  with  interest. 

"  Look  straight  before  you,  and  you  '11  see  it." 

Polly  did  look,  but  all  she  saw  was  her  own  face 
in  the  little  mirror  of  the  fan  which  Tom  held  up 
and  peeped  over  with  a  laugh  in  his  eyes. 

"  Do  I  look  happy?  I  'm  glad  of  that,"  and  Polly 
surveyed  herself  with  care. 

Both  young  men  thought  it  was  girlish  vanity,  and 
smiled  at  its  naive  display ;  but  Polly  was  looking 
for  something  deeper  than  beauty,  and  was  glad  not 
to  find  it. 

"  Rather  a  pleasant  little  prospect,  hey,  Polly?" 

"  My  bonnet  is  straight,  and  that 's  all  I  care  about. 
Did  you  ever  see  a  picture  of  Beau  Brummel  ?  "  asked 
Polly,  quickly. 

"  No." 

"  Well,  there  he  is,  modernized,"  and  turning  the 
fan,  she  showed  him  himself. 

"Any  more    portraits   in  your    gallery?"   asked 


246  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

Sydney,  as  if  he  liked  to  share  all  the  nonsense 
going. 

"  One  more." 

"  What  do  you  call  it?" 

"  The  portrait  of  a  gentleman  ;  "  and  the  little  glass 
reflected  a  gratified  face  for  the  space  of  two  seconds. 

"  Thank  you  ;  I  'm  glad  I  don't  disgrace  my  name," 
said  Sydney,  looking  clown  into  the  merry  blue  eyes 
that  thanked  him  silently  for  many  of  the  small  kind 
nesses  that  women  never  can  forget. 

"  Very  good,  Polly,  you  are  getting  on  fast,"  whis 
pered  Tom,  patting  his  yellow  kids  approvingly. 

"  Be  quiet !  Dear  me,  how  warm  it  is  !  "  and  Polly 
gave  him  a  frown  that  delighted  his  soul. 

"  Come  out  and  have  an  ice ;  we  shall  have  time." 

"  Pan  is  so  absorbed,  I  could  n't  think  of  disturbing 
her,"  said  Polly,  fancying  that  her  friend  was  enjoying 
the  evening  as  much  as  she  was,  —  a  great  mistake, 
by  the  wa}^,  for  Fan  was  acting  for  effect ;  and  though 
she  longed  to  turn  and  join  them,  would  n't  do  it, 
unless  a  certain  person  showed  signs  of  missing  her. 
He  did  n't,  and  Fanny  chatted  on,  raging  inwardly 
over  her  disappointment,  and  wondering  how  Polly 
could  be  so  gay  and  selfish. 

It  was  delicious  to  see  the  little  airs  Polly  put  on, 
for  she  felt  as  if  she  were  soinebod}r  else,  and  acting  a 
part.  She  leaned  back,  as  if  quite  oppressed  by  the 
heat,  permitted  Sydney  to  fan  her,  and  paid  him  for 
the  service  by  giving  him  a  flower  from  her  bouquet,  — 
proceedings  which  amused  Tom  immensely,  even  while 
it  piqued  him  a  little  to  be  treated  like  an  old  friend 
who  did  n't  count. 


Forbidden  Fruit.  247 

"  Go  in  and  win,  Polly ;  I  '11  give  you  my  bless 
ing,"  he  whispered,  as  the  curtain  rose  again. 

"  It 's  only  part  of  the  fun,  so  don't  you  laugh,  you 
disrespectful  boy,"  she  whispered  back  in  a  tone  never 
used  toward  Sydney. 

Tom  did  n't  quite  like  the  different  way  in  which  she 
treated  them,  and  the  word  "  boy  "  disturbed  his  dig 
nity,  for  he  was  almost  twenty-one,  and  Polly  ought 
to  treat  him  with  more  respect.  Sydney,  at  the  same 
moment,  was  wishing  he  was  in  Tom's  place,  —  young, 
comely,  and  such  a  familiar  friend,  that  Polly  would 
scold  and  lecture  him  in  the  delightful  way  she  did 
Tom ;  while  Polly  forgot  them  both  when  the  music 
began,  and  left  them  ample  time  to  look  at  her  and 
think  about  themselves. 

While  they  waited  to  get  out,  when  all  was  over, 
Polly  heard  Fan  whisper  to  Tom,  — 

"  What  do  you  think  Trix  will  say  to  this?" 

"  What  do  you  mean? " 

"  Why,  the  way  you  've  been  going  on  to-night." 

"  Don't  know,  and  don't  care ;  it 's  only  Polly." 

"  That 's  the  very  thing ;  she  can't  bear  P." 

"  Well,  I  can ;  and  I  don't  see  why  I  should  n't 
enjoy  myself  as  well  as  Trix." 

44  You  '11  get  to  enjoying  yourself  too  much,  if  you 
are  n't  careful.  Polly 's  waked  up." 

"  I  'm  glad  of  it,  and  so  's  Syd." 

"  I  only  spoke  for  your  good." 

"  Don't  trouble  yourself  about  me  ;  I  get  lecturing 
enough  in  another  quarter,  and  can't  stand  any  more. 
Come,  Polly." 

She  took  the  arm  he  offered  tier,  but  her  heart  was 


248  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

sore  and  angry,  for  that  phrase,  "It 's  only  Polly  ,r 
hurt  her  sadly.  "As  if  I  was  n't  anybody,  had  n't 
any  feelings,  and  was  only  made  to  amuse  or  work  for 
people !  Fan  and  Tom  are  both  mistaken,  and  I  '11 
show  them  that  Polly  is  awake,"  she  thought,  indig 
nantly.  "Why  shouldn't  I  enjoy  myself  as  well  as 
the  rest ;  besides,  it 's  only  Tom,"  she  added,  with  a 
bitter  smile,  as  she  thought  of  Trix. 

"  Are  you  tired,  Polly?  "  asked  Tom,  bending  dowo 
to  look  into  her  face. 

"  Yes  ;  of  being  nobody." 

"  Ah,  but  you  ain't  nobody ;  you  're  Polly,  and 
you  could  n't  better  that  if  you  tried  ever  so  hard," 
said  Tom,  warmly,  for  he  really  was  fond  of  Polly, 
and  felt  uncommonly  so  just  then. 

"  I  'm  glad  you  think  so,  any  way  ;  it 's  so  pleasant 
to  be  liked,"  and  she  looked  up  with  her  face  quite 
bright  again. 

"  I  always  did  like  you ;  don't  you  know,  ever  since 
that  first  visit." 

"  But  you  teased  me  shamefully,  for  all  that." 

"So  I  did ;  but  I  don't  now." 

Polly  did  not  answer,  and  Tom  asked,  with  more 
anxiety  than  the  occasion  required,  — 

"Do  I,  Polly?" 

"  Not  in  the  same  way,  Tom,"  she  answered,  in  a 
tone  that  did  n't  sound  quite  natural. 

"  Well,  I  never  will  again." 

"  Yes,  you  will ;  you  can 't  help  it."  And  Polly's 
eye  glanced  at  Sydney,  who  was  in  front  with  Fan. 

Tom  laughed,  and  drew  Polly  closer,  as  the  crowd 
pressed,  saying,  with  mock  tenderness, — 


Forbidden  Fruit.  249 

"  Did  n't  she  like  to  be  chaffed  about  her  sweet 
hearts?  Well,  she  shan't  be,  if  I  can  help  it.  Poor 
dear,  did  she  get  her  little  bonnet  knocked  into  a 
cocked  hat,  and  her  little  temper  riled  at  the  same 
time?" 

Polly  could  n't  help  laughing,  and,  in  spite  of  the 
crush,  enjoyed  the  slow  journey  from  seat  to  carriage, 
for  Tom  took  such  excellent  care  of  her,  she  was 
rather  sorry  when  it  was  over. 

They  had  a  merry  little  supper  after  they  got  home, 
and  Polly  gave  them  a  burlesque  opera,  that  convulsed 
her  hearers,  for  her  spirits  rose  again,  and  she  was 
determined  to  get  the  last  drop  of  fun  before  she  went 
back  to  her  humdrum  life  again. 

"  I  've  had  a  regularly  splendid  time,  and  thank  you 
ever  so  much,"  she  said,  when  the  good-nights  were 
being  exchanged. 

"  So  have  I ;  let 's  go  and  do  it  again  to-morrow," 
said  Tom,  holding  the  hand  from  which  he  had  helped 
to  pull  a  refractory  glove. 

"  Not  for  a  long  while,  please  ;  too  much  pleasure 
would  soon  spoil  me,"  answered  Polly,  shaking  her 
head. 

"  I  don't  believe  it.  Good-night,  '  sweet  Mistress 
Milton,'  as  Syd  called  you.  Sleep  like  an  angel,  am! 
don't  dream  of — I  forgot,  no  teasing  allowed,"  and 
Tom  took  himself  off  with  a  theatrical  farewell. 

"  Now  it 's  all  over  and  done  with,"  thought  Polly, 
as  she  fell  asleep  after  a  long  vigil.  But  it  was  not, 
and  Polly's  fun  cost  more  than  the  pr'x;e  of  gloves 
and  bonnet,  for,  having  nibbled  at  forbidden  fruit,  she 
had  to  pa}*  the  'penalty.  She  only  meant  to  have  a 


250  An  Old- Fashioned  GirL 

good  time,  and  there  was  no  harm  in  that ;  but,  unfor 
tunately,  she  yielded  to  the  various  small  temptations 
that  beset  pretty  young  girls,  and  did  more  mischief 
to  others  than  to  herself.  Fanny's  friendship  grew 
cooler  after  that  night.  Tom  kept  wishing  Trix  was 
half  as  satisfactory  as  Polly,  and  Mr.  Sydney  began 
to  build  castles  that  had  no  foundation. 


CHAPTER    XHI. 

THE    SUNNY    SIDE. 

"  T  'VE  won  the  wager,  Tom." 

-*•    "  Did  n't  know  there  was  one." 

"  Don't  you  remember  you  said  Polly  would  be  tired 
of  her  teaching  and  give  it  up  in  three  months,  and  I 
said  she  would  n't?" 

"Well,  is  n't  she?" 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it.  I  thought  she  was  at  one  time, 
and  expected  every  day  to  have  her  come  in  with  a 
long  face,  and  say  she  could  n't  stand  it.  But  some 
how,  lately,  she  is  always  bright  and  happy,  seems  to 
like  her  work,  and  don't  have  the  tired,  worried  look 
she  used  to  at  first.  The  three  months  are  out,  so  pay 
up,  Tommy." 

"  All  right,  what  will  you  have?" 

"  You  may  make  it  gloves.  I  always  need  them, 
and  papa  looks  sober  when  I  want  money." 

There  was  a  minute's  pause  as  Fan  returned  to  her 
practising,  and  Tom  relapsed  into  the  reverie  he  was 
enjoying  seated  astride  of  a  chair,  with  his  chin  on  his 
folded  arms. 

"  Seems  to  me  Polly  don't  come  here  as  often  as 
she  used  to,"  he  said,  presently. 


252  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

"No,  she  seems  to  be  very  busy;  got  some  new 
friends,  I  believe,  —  old  ladies,  sewing-girls,  and 
things  of  that  sort.  I  miss  her,  but  know  she  '11  get 
tired  of  being  goody,  and  will  come  back  to  me  before 
long." 

"  Don't  be  too  sure  of  that,  ma  'am."  Something 
in  Tom's  tone  made  Fan  turn  round,  and  ask,  — 

"  What  do  you  mean?  " 

"  Well,  it  strikes  me  that  Sydney  is  one  of  Polly's 
new  friends.  Have  n't  you  observed  that  she  is  un 
commonly  jolly,  and  don't  that  sort  of  thing  account 
for  it?" 

"  Nonsense  !  "  said  Fanny,  sharply. 

"  Hope  it  is,"  coolly  returned  Tom. 

"  What  put  it  into  your  head  ?  "  demanded  Fanny, 
twirling  round  again  so  that  her  face  was  hidden. 

"  Oh,  well,  I  keep  meeting  Syd  and  Polly  circulat 
ing  in  the  same  directions ;  she  looks  as  if  she  had 
found  something  uncommonly  nice,  and  he  looks  as 
if  all  creation  was  getting  Pollyfied  pretty  rapidly. 
Wonder  you  have  n't  observed  it." 

"  I  have." 

It  was  Tom's  turn  to  look  surprised  now,  for 
Fanny's  voice  sounded  strange  to  him.  He  looked 
at  her  steadily  for  a  minute,  but  saw  only  a  rosy  ear 
and  a  bent  head.  A  cloud  passed  over  his  face,  and 
he  leaned  his  chin  on  his  arm  again  with  a  despondent 
whistle,  as  he  said  to  himself,  — 

"  Poor  Fan  !     Both  of  us  in  a  scrape  at  once." 

"  Don't  you  think  it  would  be  a  good  thing  ?  "  asked 
Fann}',  after  playing  a  bar  or  two,  very  badly. 

"  Yes,  for  Syd." 


The  Sunny  Side.  253 

"  Not  for  Polly  ?  Why,  he  's  rich,  and  clever,  and 
better  than  most  of  you  good-for-nothing  fellows. 
What  can  the  girl  expect  ?  " 

"  Can't  say,  but  I  don't  fancy  the  match  myself." 

"  Don't  be  a  dog  in  the  manger,  Tom." 

"  Bless  your  little  heart,  I  only  take  a  brotherly 
sort  of  interest  in  Polly.  She 's  a  capital  girl,  and 
she  ought  to  marry  a  missionary,  or  one  of  your  re 
former  fellows,  and  be  a  shining  light  of  some  sort. 
I  don't  think  setting  up  for  a  fine  lady  would  suit 
her." 

"I  think  it  would,  and  I  hope  she'll  have  the 
chance,"  said  Fanny,  evidently  making  an  effort  to 
speak  kindly. 

"  Good  for  you,  Fan  ! "  and  Tom  gave  an  emphatic 
nod,  as  if  her  words  meant  more  than  she  suspected. 
"  Mind  you,"  he  added,  "  I  don't  know  anything,  and 
only  fancied  there  might  be  some  little  flirtation  going 
on.  But  I  dare  say  it 's  nothing." 

"  Time  will  show."  Then  Fan  began  to  sing,  and 
Tom's  horse  came,  so  he  departed  with  the  very  un 
usual  demonstration  of  a  gentle  pat  on  the  head,  as 
he  said  kindly,  — 

"  That 's  right,  my  dear,  keep  jolly."  It  was  n't 
an  elegant  way  of  expressing  sympathy,  but  it  was 
hearty,  and  Fan  thanked  him  for  it,  though  she  only 
said,  — 

"  Don't  break  your  neck,  Tommy." 

When  he  was  gone,  Fan's  song  ended  as  suddenly 
as  it  began,  and  she  sat  thinking,  with  varying  ex 
pressions  of  doubt  and  trouble  passing  rapidly  across 
her  face. 


254  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

"  Well,  I  can't  do  anything  but  wait ! "  she  said,  at 
last,  slamming  the  music-book  together  with  a  des 
perate  look.  "  Yes,  I  can,"  she  added,  a  minute  af 
ter,  "  it 's  Polly's  holiday.  I  can  go  and  see  her,  and 
if  there  is  anything  in  it,  I  shall  find  it  out." 

Fanny  dropped  her  face  into  her  hands,  with  a  lit 
tle  shiver,  as  she  said  that ;  then  got  up,  looking  as 
pale  and  resolute  as  if  going  to  meet  some  dreadful 
doom,  and  putting  on  her  things,  went  away  to  Polly's 
as  fast  as  her  dignity  would  allow. 

Saturday  morning  was  Polly's  clearing-up  day,  and 
Fan  found  her  with  a  handkerchief  tied  over  her  head, 
and  a  big  apron  on,  just  putting  the  last  touches  to 
the  tidy  little  room,  which  was  as  fresh  and  bright  as 
water,  air,  and  a  pair  of  hands  could  make  it. 

"  All  ready  for  company.  I  '11  just  whisk  off  my 
regimentals,  and  Polly,  the  maid,  becomes  Polly,  the 
missis.  It  was  lovely  of  you  to  come  early ;  take 
off  your  things.  Another  new  bonnet  ?  you  extrav- 
gant  wretch !  How  is  your  mother  and  Maudie  ?  It 's 
a  nice  day,  and  we  '11  have  a  walk,  won't  we  ?  " 

By  the  time  Polly's  welcome  was  uttered,  she  had 
got  Fan  on  the  little  sofa  beside  her,  and  was  smiling 
at  her  in  such  an  infectious  manner,  that  Fan  could  n't 
help  smiling  back. 

"  I  came  to  see  what  you  have  been  doing  with 
yourself  lately.  You  don't  come  and  report,  and  I 
got  anxious  about  you,"  said  Fanny,  looking  into  the 
clear  eyes  before  her. 

"  I  've  been  so  busy ;  and  I  knew  }rou  would  n't  care 
to  hear  about  my  doings,  for  they  are  n't  the  sort  you 
like,"  answered  Polly. 


The  Sunny  Side.  255 

"  Youi  lessons  did  n't  use  to  take  up  all  your  time. 
Ft 's  my  private  opinion  that  you  are  taking  as  well  as 
giving  lessons,  miss,"  said  Fan,  putting  on  a  play 
fully  stern  air,  to  hide  her  real  anxiety. 

"  Yes,  I  am,"  answered  Polly,  soberly. 

•'  In  what?    Love?" 

A  quick  color  came  to  Polly's  cheeks,  as  she  laughed, 
and  said,  looking  away,  — 

"  No  ;  friendship  and  good  works." 

"  Oh,  indeed  !     May  I  ask  who  is  your  teacher?" 

"  I  Ve  more  than  one ;  but  Miss  Mills  is  head 
teacher." 

"  She  instructs  in  good  works ;  who  gives  the 
friendship  lessons  ?  " 

"  Such  pleasant  girls !  I  wish  you  knew  them, 
Fan.  So  clever,  and  energetic,  and  kind,  and  happy, 
it  always  does  me  good  to  see  them,"  cried  Polly,  with 
a  face  full  of  enthusiasm. 

"  Is  that  all?  "  And  Fan  gave  her  a  curious  look  of 
mingled  disappointment  and  relief. 

"  There,  I  told  you  my  doings  would  not  interest 
y ou,  and  they  don't ,  they  sound  flat  and  prosy  after 
your  brilliant  adventures.  Let 's  change  the  subject," 
said  Polly,  looking  relieved  herself. 

"  Dear  me,  which  of  our  sweethearts  sends  us  dainty 
bouquets  of  violets  so  early  in  the  morning  ? "  asked 
Fanny,  suddenly  spying  the  purple  cluster  in  a  grace 
ful  little  vase  on  the  piano. 

44  He  sends  me  one  every  week ;  he  knows  I  love 
them  so,"  and  Polly's  eyes  turned  that  way  full  of 
pride  and  pleasure. 

"I'd  no  idea  he  was  so  devoted,"  said  Fanny, 


256  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

stooping  to  smell  the  flowers,  and  at  the  same  time 
read  a  card  that  lay  near  them. 

"  You  need  n't  plague  me  about  it,  now  you  know 
it.  I  never  speak  of  our  fondness  for  one  another, 
because  such  things  seem  silly  to  other  people.  Will 
is  n't  all  that  Jimmy  was  to  me ;  but  he  tries  to  be, 
and  I  love  him  dearly  for  it." 

"Will?"  Fanny's  voice  quite  startled  Polly,  it 
was  so  sharp  and  sudden,  and  her  face  grew  red  and 
pale  all  in  a  minute,  as  she  upset  the  little  vase  with 
the  start  she  gave. 

"Yes,  of  course;  who  did  you  think  I  meant?" 
asked  Polly,  sopping  up  the  water  before  it  damaged 
her  piano. 

"  Never  mind ;  I  thought  you  might  be  having  u 
quiet  little  flirtation  with  somebody.  I  feel  respon 
sible,  you  know,  because  I  told  your  mother  I  'd  look 
after  you.  The  flowers  are  all  right.  My  head  aches 
so,  I  hardly  know  what  I  'm  doing  this  morning." 

Fanny  spoke  fast,  and  laughed  uncomfortably,  ap 
she  went  back  to  the  sofa,  wondering  if  Polly  had  told 
her  a  lie.  Polly  seemed  to  guess  at  her  thoughts  as 
she  saw  the  card,  and  turning  toward  her,  she  held  it 
up,  saying,  with  a  conscious  look  in  her  eyes,  — 

"  You  thought  Mr.  Sydney  sent  them?  Well,  you 
are  mistaken,  and  the  next  time  you  want  to  know 
anything,  please  ask  straight  out.  I  like  it  better 
J™n  talking  at  cross  purposes." 

"  Now,  my  dear,  don't  be  angry ;  I  was  only  teas 
ing  you  in  fun.  Tom  took  it  into  his  foolish  head  that 
something  was  going  on,  and  I  felt  a  natural  interest 
you  know." 


The  Sunny  Side.  257 

•*  Tom !  What  does  he  know  or  care  about  my 
affairs  ?  "  demanded  Polly. 

"  He  met  you  two  in  the  street  pretty  often,  and 
being  in  a  sentimental  mood  himself,  got  up  a  romance 
for  you  and  Sydney." 

"  I  'm  much  obliged  to  him  for  his  interest,  but  it 's 
quite  wasted,  thank  you." 

Fan's  next  proceeding  gave  her  friend  another  sur 
prise,  for,  being  rather  ashamed  of  herself,  very  much 
relieved,  and  quite  at  a  loss  what  to  say,  she  took 
refuge  in  an  hysterical  fit  of  tears,  which  changed 
Polly's  anger  into  tenderness  at  once. 

"  Is  that  the  trouble  she  has  been  hiding  all  winter? 
Poor  dear,  I  wish  I'd  known  it  sooner,"  thought 
Polly,  as  she  tried  to  soothe  her  with  comfortable 
pats,  sniffs  of  cologne,  and  sympathizing  remarks 
upon  the  subject  of  headache,  carefully  ignoring  that 
other  feminine  affliction,  the  heartache. 

"  There,  I  feel  better.  I  've  been  needing  a  good 
cry  for  some  time,  and  now  I  shall  be  all  right. 
Never  mind  it,  Polly,  I'm  nervous  and  tired;  I've 
danced  too  much  lately,  and  dyspepsia  makes  me 
blue  ; "  and  Fanny  wiped  her  eyes  and  laughed. 

"  Of  course  it  does ;  you  need  rest  and  petting, 
ind  here  I've  been  scolding  you,  when  I  ought  to 
oave  been  extra  kind.  Now  tell  me  what  I  can  do 
for  you,"  said  Polty,  with  a  remorseful  face. 

"  Talk  to  me,  and  tell  me  all  about  yourself.  You 
lon't  seem  to  have  as  many  worries  as  other  people. 
fVhat  's  the  secret,  Polly  ?  "  and  Fan  looked  up  with 
wet  eyes,  and  a  wistful  face  at  Polly,  who  was  putting 
little  dabs  of  cologne  all  over  her  head. 

17 


258  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

"  Well,"  said  Polly,  slowly,  "  I  just  try  to  look  on 
the  bright  side  of  things ;  that  helps  one  amazingly. 
Why,  you  've  no  idea  how  much  goodness  and  sun 
shine  you  can  get  out  of  the  most  unpromising  things, 
if  you  make  the  best  of  them." 

"  I  don't  know  how,"  said  Fan,  despondently. 

"  You  can  learn ;  I  did.  I  used  to  croak  and  fret 
dreadfully,  and  get  so  unhappy,  I  was  n't  fit  for  any 
thing.  I  do  it  still,  more  than  I  ought,  but  I  try  not  to, 
and  it  gets  easier,  I  find.  Get  a- top  of  your  troubles, 
and  then  they  are  half  cured,  Miss  Mills  says." 

"  Everything  is  so  contrary  and  provoking,"  said 
Fanny,  petulantly. 

u  Now  what  in  the  world  have  you  to  fret  about? " 
asked  Polly,  rather  anxiously. 

"  Quantities  of  things,"  began  Fan,  and  then  stopped, 
for  somehow  she  felt  ashamed  to  own  that  she  was 
afflicted  because  she  could  n't  have  a  new  set  of  furs, 
go  to  Paris  in  the  spring,  and  make  Mr.  Sydney  love 
her.  She  hunted  up  something  more  presentable,  and 
said  in  a  despairing  tone,  — 

"  Well,  mother  is  very  poorly,  Tom  and  Trix  quar 
rel  all  the  time,  Maud  gets  more  and  more  wilful  every 
day,  and  papa  is  worried  about  his  affairs." 

"  A  sad  state  of  things,  but  nothing  very  desperate. 
Can't  you  lend  a  hand  anywhere?  That  might  do 
good  all  round." 

"  No ;  I  have  n't  the  talent  for  managing  people, 
but  I  see  what  ought  to  be  done." 

"  Well,  don't  wail  about  it ;  keep  yourself  happy, 
if  you  can ;  it  will  help  other  people  to  see  you  cheer 
ful." 


The  Sunny  Side.  259 

"  Just  what  Tom  said,  '  Keep  jolly ' ;  but,  dear  me, 
how  can  one,  when  everything  is  so  stupid  and  tire 
some  ?  " 

"  If  ever  a  girl  needed  work,  it 's  you !  "  cried  Polly. 
"  You  began  to  be  a  young  lady  so  early,  that  you  are 
tired  of  everything  at  twenty-two.  I  wish  you'd  go 
at  something,  then  you  'd  find  how  much  talent  and 
energy  you  really  had." 

"  I  know  ever  so  many  girls  who  are  just  like  me, 
sick  to  death  of  fashionable  life,  but  don't  know  what 
to  take  in  its  place.  I  'd  like  to  travel ;  but  papa 
says  he  can't  afford  it,  so  I  can  only  drag  about  and 
get  on  as  I  may." 

"  I  pity  you  rich  girls  so  much,  you  have  so  many 
opportunities,  and  don't  seem  to  know  how  to  use 
them.  I  suppose  I  should  do  just  the  same  in  your 
place,  but  it  seems  now  as  if  I  could  be  very  happy 
and  useful  with  plenty  of  money." 

"You  are  that  without  it.  There,  I  won't  croak 
any  more.  Let  us  go  and  take  a  good  walk,  and  don't 
you  tell  any  one  how  I  came  and  cried  like  a  baby." 

"  Never  !  "  said  Polly,  putting  on  her  bonnet. 

"  I  ought  to  go  and  make  calls,"  said  Fanny,  "  but 
I  don't  feel  now  as  if  I  ever  wanted  to  see  any  of  the 
girls  again.  Dreadful  state  of  mind,  is  n't  it  ?  " 

"  Suppose  you  come  and  see  some  of  my  friends 
instead !  They  are  not  fine  or  ceremonious,  but  lively, 
odd,  and  pleasant.  Come,  it  will  amuse  you." 

"  I  will,"  cried  Fanny,  whose  spirits  seemed  im 
proved  by  the  shower.  "  Nice  little  old  lady,  is  n't 
she?"  added  Fan,  as  she  caught  sight  of  Miss  Mills, 
on  their  way  out,  sitting  at  a  table  piled  with  work, 


260  An  Old- Fashioned  Girl. 

and  sewing  away  with  an  energy  that  made  the  gray 
curls  vibrate. 

"  Saint  Mehitable,  I  call  her.  Now,  there  is  a  rich 
woman  who  knew  how  to  get  happiness  out  of  her 
money,"  said  Polly,  as  they  walked  away.  "  She  was 
poor  till  she  was  nearly  fifty ;  then  a  comfortable  for 
tune  was  left  her,  and  she  knew  just  how  to  use  it. 
That  house  was  given  her,  but  instead  of  living  in  it 
all  alone,  she  filled  it  with  poor  gentlefolks  who 
needed  neat,  respectable  homes,  but  could  n't  get 
anything  comfortable  for  their  little  money.  I  'm 
one  of  them,  and  I  know  the  worth  of  what  she  does 
for  me.  Two  old  widow  ladies  live  below  me,  several 
students  overhead,  poor  Mrs.  Kean  and  her  lame  boy 
have  the  back  parlor,  and  Jenny  the  little  bedroom 
next  Miss  Mills.  Each  pays  what  they  can  ;  that 's 
independent,  and  makes  us  feel  better :  but  that  dear 
woman  does  a  thousand  things  that  money  can't  pay 
for,  and  we  feel  her  influence  all  through  the  house. 
I  'd  rather  be  married,  and  have  a  home  of  my  own  ; 
but  next  to  that,  I  should  like  to  be  an  old  maid  like 
Miss  Mills." 

Polly's  sober  face  and  emphatic  tone  made  Fanny 
laugh,  and  at  the  cheery  sound  a  young  girl  pushing 
a  baby-carriage  looked  round  and  smiled. 

44  What  lovely  eyes  ! "  whispered  Fanny. 

"  Yes,  that 's  little  Jane,"  returned  Polly,  adding, 
when  she  had  passed,  with  a  nod  and  a  friendly  "  Don't 
get  tired,  Jenny,"  44  we  help  one  another  at  our  house, 
and  every  fine  morning  Jenny  takes  Johnny  Kean  out 
when  she  goes  for  her  own  walk.  That  gives  his 
mother  time  to  rest,  does  both  the  children  good,  anj 


The  Sunny  Side.  261 

keeps  things  neighborly.  Miss  Mills  suggested  it, 
and  Jenny  is  so  glad  to  do  anything  for  anybody,  it  'a 
a  pleasure  to  let  her." 

"  I  've  heard  of  Miss  Mills  before.  But  I  should 
think  she  would  get  tired  to  death,  sitting  there  mak 
ing  hoods  and  petticoats  day  after  day,"  said  Fanny, 
after  thinking  over  Jenny's  story  for  a  few  minutes, 
for  seeing  the  girl  seemed  to  bring  it  nearer,  and 
make  it  more  real  to  her. 

"  But  she  don't  sit  there  all  the  time.  People  come 
to  her  with  their  troubles,  and  she  goes  to  them  with 
all  sorts  of  help,  from  soap  and  soup,  to  ^hrouds  for 
the  dead  and  comfort  for  the  living.  I  go  with  her 
sometimes,  and  it  is  more  exciting  than  any  play,  to 
see  and  hear  the  lives  and  stories  of  the  poor." 

"  How  can  you  bear  the  dreadful  sights  and  sounds, 
the  bad  air,  and  the  poverty  that  can't  be  cured  ?  " 

"But  it  isn't  all  dreadful.  There  are  good  and 
lovely  things  among  them,  if  one  only  has  eyes  to  see 
them.  It  makes  me  grateful  and  contented,  shows 
me  how  rich  I  am,  and  keeps  me  ready  to  do  all  I  can 
for  these  poor  souls." 

"  My  good  Polly ! "  and  Fanny  gave  her  friend's 
arm  an  affectionate  squeeze,  wondering  if  it  was  this 
alone  that  had  worked  the  change  in  Polly. 

"  You  have  seen  two  of  my  new  friends,  Miss  Mills 
and  Jenny,  now  I  '11  show  you  two  more,"  said  Polly, 
presently,  as  they  reached  a  door,  and  she  led  the  way 
up  several  flights  of  public  stairs.  "  Rebecca  Jeffrey 
is  a  regularly  splendid  girl,  full  of  talent ;  she  won't 
let  us  call  it  genius ;  she  will  be  famous  some  day,  I 
know,  sbe  is  so  modest,  and  yet  so  intent  on  her  work. 


262  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

Lizzie  Small  is  an  engraver,  and  designs  the  most 
delightful  little  pictures.  Becky  and  she  live  togeth 
er,  and  take  care  of  one  another  in  true  Damon  and 
Pythias  style.  This  studio  is  their  home,  —  they  work, 
eat,  sleep,  and  live  here,  going  halves  in  everything. 
They  are  all  alone  in  the  world,  but  as  happy  and 
independent  as  birds  ;  real  friends,  whom  nothing  will 
part." 

"  Let  a  lover  come  between  them,  and  their  friend 
ship  won't  last  long,"  said  Fanny. 

"  I  think  it  will.  Take  a  look  at  them,  and  you  '11 
change  your  mind,"  answered  Polly,  tapping  at  a  door, 
on  which  two  modest  cards  were  tacked. 

"  Come  in ! "  said  a  voice,  and  obeying,  Fanny 
found  herself  in  a  large,  queerly  furnished  room, 
lighted  from  above,  and  occupied  by  two  girls.  One 
stood  before  a  great  clay  figure,  in  a  corner.  This 
one  was  tall,  with  a  strong  face,  keen  eyes,  short, 
curly  hair,  and  a  fine  head.  Fanny  was  struck  at 
once  by  this  face  and  figure,  though  the  one  was  not 
handsome,  and  the  other  half  hidden  by  a  great  pina 
fore  covered  with  clay.  At  a  table  where  the  light 
was  clearest,  sat  a  frail-looking  girl,  with  a  thin  face, 
big  eyes,  and  pale  hair, —  a  dreamy,  absorbed  little 
person,  who  bent  over  a  block,  skilfully  wielding  her 
tools. 

4 '  Becky  and  Bess,  how  do  you  do?  This  is  my 
friend,  Fanny  Shaw.  We  are  out  on  a  rampage  ;  so 
go  on  with  your  work,  and  let  us  lazy  ones  look  on 
and  admire." 

As  Polly  spoke,  both  girls  looked  up  and  nodded, 
smilingly^  Bess  gave  Fan  the  one  easy-chair ;  Becky 


The  Sunny  Side.  263 

took  an  artistic  survey  of  the  new-comer,  with  eyes 
that  seemed  to  see  everything ;  then  each  went  on 
with  her  work,  and  all  began  to  talk. 

"  You  are  just  what  I  want,  Polly.  Pull  up  your 
sleeve,  and  give  mo  an  arm  while  you  sit ;  the  mus 
cles  here  are  n't  right,  and  you  've  got  just  what  I 
want,"  said  Becky,  slapping  the  round  arm  of  the 
statue,  at  which  Fan  was  gazing  with  awe. 

"How  do  you  get  on?"  asked  Polly,  throwing  off 
her  cloak,  and  rolling  up  her  sleeves,  as  if  going  to 
washing. 

"  Slowly.  The  idea  is  working  itself  clear,  and  1 
follow  as  fast  as  my  hands  can.  Is  the  face  better, 
do  you  think?  "  said  Becky,  taking  off  a  wet  cloth,  and 
showing  the  head  of  the  statue. 

"  How  beautiful  it  is  !  "  cried  Fanny,  staring  at  it 
with  increased  respect. 

"What  does  it  mean  to  you? "asked  Rebecca, 
turning  to  her  with  a  sudden  shine  in  her  keen  eyes. 

"  I  don't  know  whether  it  is  meant  for  a  saint  or  a 
muse,  a  goddess  or  a  fate ;  but  to  me  it  is  only  a 
beautiful  woman,  bigger,  lovelier,  and  more  imposing 
than  any  woman  I  ever  saw,"  answered  Fanny,  slowly, 
trying  to  express  the  impression  the  statue  made 
upon  her. 

Rebecca  smiled  brightly,  and  Bess  looked  round  to 
nod  approvingly,  but  Polly  clapped  her  hands,  and 
said,  — 

"Well  done,  Fan !  I  didn't  think  you'd  get  the 
idea  so  well,  but  }'ou  have,  and  I'm  proud  of  your  in 
sight.  Now  I'll  tell  you,  for  Becky  will  let  me,  since 
you  have  paid  her  the  compliment  of  understanding 


264  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

her  work.  Some  time  ago  we  got  into  a  famous  talk 
about  what  women  should  be,  and  Becky  said  she  'd 
show  us  her  idea  of  the  coming  woman.  There  she 
is,  as  you  say,  bigger,  lovelier,  and  more  imposing 
than  any  we  see  nowadays ;  and  at  the  same  time, 
she  is  a  true  woman.  See  what  a  fine  forehead,  yet 
the  mouth  is  both  firm  and  tender,  as  if  it  could  say 
strong,  wise  things,  as  well  as  teach  children  and  kiss 
babies.  We  couldn't  decide  what  to  put  in  the 
hands  as  the  most  appropriate  symbol.  What  do 
you  say  ?  " 

"  Give  her  a  sceptre  ;  she  would  make  a  fine  queen," 
answered  Fanny. 

"  No,  we  have  had  enough  of  that ;  women  have 
been  called  queens  a  long  time,  but  the  kingdom 
given  them  is  n't  worth  ruling,"  answered  Rebecca. 

"  I  don't  think  it  is  nowadays,"  said  Fanny,  with  a 
tired  sort  of  sigh. 

"  Put  a  man's  hand  in  hers  to  help  her  along,  then," 
said  Polly,  whose  happy  fortune  it  had  been  to  find 
friends  and  helpers  in  father  and  brothers. 

"  No ;  my  woman  is  to  stand  alone,  and  help  her 
self,"  said  Rebecca,  decidedly. 

"  She's  to  be  strong-minded,  is  she?"  and  Fanny's 
lip  curled  a  little  as  she  uttered  the  misused  words. 

"  Yes,  strong-minded,  strong-hearted,  strong-sou  led, 
and  strong-bodied  ;  that  is  why  I  made  her  larger  than 
the  miserable,  pinched-up  woman  of  our  day.  Strength 
and  beauty  must  go  together.  Don't  you  think  these 
broad  shoulders  can  bear  burdens  without  breaking 
down,  these  hands  work  well,  these  eyes  see  clearly,  and 
these  lips  do  something  besides  simper  and  gossip  ?  " 


The  Sunny  Side.  265 

Fanny  was  silent  ;  but  a  voice  from  Bess's  corner 


"  Put  a  child  in  her  arms,  Becky." 

"  Not  that  even,  for  she  is  to  be  something  more 
than  a  nurse." 

u  Give  her  a  ballot-box,"  cried  a  new  voice,  and 
turning  round,  they  saw  an  odd-looking  woman 
perched  on  a  sofa  behind  them. 

"  Thank  you  for  the  suggestion,  Kate.  I  '11  put 
that  with  the  other  symbols  at  her  feet  ;  for  I  'in 
going  to  have  needle,  pen,  palette,  and  broom  some 
where,  to  suggest  the  various  talents  she  owns,  and 
the  ballot-box  will  show  that  she  has  earned  the 
right  to  use  them.  How  goes  it?"  and  Rebecca 
offered  a  clay-daubed  hand,  which  the  new-comer  cor 
dially  shook. 

"  Great  news,  girls  !  Anna  is  going  to  Italy  !  " 
cried  Kate,  tossing  up  her  bonnet  like  a  school-boy. 

uOh,  how  splendid!  Who  takes  her?  Has  she 
had  a  fortune  left  her?  Tell  all  about  it,"  exclaimed 
the  girls,  gathering  round  the  speaker. 

u  Yes,  it  is  splendid  ;  just  one  of  the  beautiful  things 
that  does  everybody  heaps  of  good,  it  is  so  generous  and 
so  deserved.  You  know  Anna  has  been  longing  to  go  ; 
working  and  hoping  for  a  chance,  and  never  getting 
it,  till  all  of  a  sudden  Miss  Burton  is  inspired  to 
invite  the  girl  to  go  with  her  for  several  years  to 
Italy.  Think  of  the  luck  of  that  dear  soul,  the  ad 
vantages  she'll  have,  the  good  it  will  do  her,  and, 
best  of  all,  the  lovely  way  in  which  it  comes  to  her. 
Miss  Burton  wants  her  as  a  friend,  asks  nothing  of 
her  but  her  company,  and  Anna  will  go  through  fire 


266  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

and  water  for  her,  of  course.  Now,  isn't  that 
fine?" 

It  was  good  to  see  how  heartily  these  girls  sympa 
thized  in  their  comrade's  good  fortune.  Polly  danced 
all  over  the  room,  Bess  and  Becky  hugged  one  an 
other,  and  Kate  laughed  with  her  eyes  full,  while 
even  Fanny  felt  a  glow  of  pride  and  pleasure  at  the 
kind  act. 

"  Who  is  that?"  she  whispered  to  Polly,  who  had 
subsided  into  a  corner. 

"  Why,  it 's  Kate  King,  the  authoress.  Bless  me, 
how  rude  not  to  introduce  you!  Here,  my  King, 
is  an  admirer  of  yours,  Fanny  Shaw,  and  my  well- 
beloved  friend,"  cried  Polly,  presenting  Fan,  who 
regarded  the  shabby  37oung  woman  with  as  much 
respect,  as  if  she  had  been  arrayed  in  velvet  and 
ermine ;  for  Kate  had  written  a  successful  book  by 
accident,  and  happened  to  be  the  fashion,  just  then. 

"  It 's  time  for  lunch,  girls,  and  I  brought  mine 
along  with  me,  it 's  so  much  jollier  to  eat  in  sister 
hood.  Let 's  club  together,  and  have  a  revel,"  said 
Kate,  producing  a  bag  of  oranges,  and  several  big, 
plummy  buns. 

"  We  've  got  sardines,  crackers,  and  cheese,"  said 
Bess,  clearing  off  a  table  with  all  speed. 

"  Wait  a  bit,  and  I  '11  add  my  share,"  cried  Polly, 
and  catching  up  her  cloak,  she  ran  off  to  the  grocery 
store  near  by. 

"You'll  be  shocked  at  our  performances,  Miss 
Shaw,  but  you  can  call  it  a  picnic,  and  never  tell 
what  dreadful  things  you  saw  us  do,"  said  Rebecca, 
polishing  a  paint  knife  by  rubbing  it  up  and  down  in 


The  Sunny  Side.  267 

a  pot  of  ivy,  while  Kate  spread  forth  the  feast  in  sev 
eral  odd  plates,  and  a  flat  shell  or  two. 

"  Let  us  have  coffee  to  finish  off  with ;  put  on  the 
pot,  Bess,  and  skim  the  milk,"  added  Becky,  as  she 
produced  cups,  mugs,  and  a  queer  little  vase,  to  sup 
ply  drinking  vessels  for  the  party. 

"  Here  's  nuts,  a  pot  of  jam,  and  some  cake.  Fan 
likes  sweet  things,  and  we  want  to  be  elegant  when 
we  have  company,"  said  Polly,  flying  in  again,  and 
depositing  her  share  on  the  table. 

"Now,  then,  fall  to,  ladies,  and  help  yourselves. 
Never  mind  if  the  china  don't  hold  out ;  take  the 
sardines  by  their  little  tails,  and  wipe  your  fingers  on 
my  brown-paper  napkins,"  said  Kate,  setting  the  ex 
ample  with  such  a  relish,  that  the  others  followed  it 
in  a  gale  of  merriment. 

Fanny  had  been  to  many  elegant  lunches,  but  never 
enjoyed  one  more  than  that  droll  picnic  in  the  studio  ; 
for  there  was  a  freedom  about  it  that  was  charming, 
an  artistic  flavor  to  everything,  and  such  a  spirit  of 
good-will  and  gayety,  that  she  felt  at  home  at  once. 
As  they  ate,  the  others  talked  and  she  listened,  find 
ing  it  as  interesting  as  any  romance  to  hear  these 
young  women  discuss  their  plans,  ambitions,  successes, 
and  defeats.  It  was  a  new  world  to  her,  and  they 
seemed  a  different  race  of  creatures  from  the  girls 
whose  lives  were  spent  in  dress,  gossip,  pleasure,  or 
ennui.  They  were  girls  still,  full  of  spirits,  fun,  and 
youth  ;  but  below  the  light-heartedness  each  cherished 
a  purpose,  which  seemed  to  ennoble  her  womanhood, 
to  give  her  a  certain  power,  a  sustaining  satisfac 
tion,  a  dail}T  stimulus,  that  led  her  on  to  daily  effortj 


268  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

and  in  time  to  some  success  in  circumstance,  or  char 
acter,  which  was  worth  all  the  patience,  hope,  and 
labor  of  her  life. 

Fanny  was  just  then  in  the  mood  to  feel  the  beauty 
of  this,  for  the  sincerest  emotion  she  had  ever  known 
was  beginning  to  make  her  dissatisfied  with  herself, 
and  the  aimless  life  she  led.  "  Men  must  respect  such 
girls  as  these,"  she  thought ;  "  yes,  and  love  them 
too,  for  in  spite  of  their  independence,  they  are 
womanly.  I  wish  I  had  a  talent  to  live  for,  if  it 
would  do  as  much  for  me  as  it  does  for  them.  It  is 
this  sort  of  thing  that  is  improving  Polly,  that  makes 
her  society  interesting  to  Sydney,  and  herself  so  dear 
to  every  one.  Money  can't  buy  these  things  for  me, 
and  I  want  them  very  much." 

As  these  thoughts  were  passing  through  her  mind, 
Fanny  was  hearing  all  sorts  of  topics  discussed  with 
feminine  enthusiasm  and  frankness.  Art,  morals, 
politics,  society,  books,  religion,  housekeeping,  dress, 
and  economy,  for  the  minds  and  tongues  roved 
from  subject  to  subject  with  youthful  rapidity,  and 
seemed  to  get  something  from  the  dryest  and  the 
dullest. 

"  How  does  the  new  book  come  on?"  asked  Polly, 
sucking  her  orange  in  public  with  a  composure  which 
would  have  scandalized  the  good  ladies  of  "  Cran- 
ford. ' 

"  Better  than  it  deserves.  My  children,  beware  of 
popularity ;  it  is  a  delusion  and  a  snare ;  it  puffeth 
up  the  heart  of  man,  and  especially  of  woman ;  it 
blindeth  the  eyes  to  faults ;  it  exalteth  unduly  the 
humble  powers  of  the  victim  ;  it  is  apt  to  be  capricious, 


The  Sunny  Side.  269 

and  just  as  one  gets  to  liking  the  taste  of  this  intox 
icating  draught,  it  suddenly  faileth,  and  one  is  left 
gasping,  like  a  fish  out  of  water,"  and  Kate  empha 
sized  her  speech  by  spearing  a  sardine  with  a  pen 
knife,  and  eating  it  with  a  groan. 

"  It  won't  hurt  you  much,  I  guess ;  you  have 
worked  and  waited  so  long,  a  large  dose  will  do  you 
good,"  said  Rebecca,  giving  her  a  generous  spoonful 
of  jam,  as  if  eager  to  add  as  much  sweetness  as  pos 
sible  to  a  life  that  had  not  been  an  easy  one. 

"  When  are  you  and  Becky  going  to  dissolve  part 
nership?"  asked  Polly,  eager  for  news  of  all. 

•"  Never  !  George  knows  he  can't  have  one  without 
the  other,  and  has  not  suggested  such  a  thing  as  part 
ing  us.  There  is  always  room  in  my  house  for  Becky, 
and  she  lets  me  do  as  she  would  if  she  was  in  my 
place,"  answered  Bess,  with  a  look  which  her  friend 
answered  by  a  smile. 

"  The  lover  won't  separate  this  pair  of  friends,  you 
see,"  whispered  Polly  to  Fan.  "Bess  is  to  be  married 
in  the  spring,  and  Becky  is  to  live  with  her." 

"  By  the  way,  Polly,  I  've  got  some  tickets  for  you. 
People  are  always  sending  me  such  things,  and  as  I 
don't  care  for  them,  I  'm  glad  to  make  them  over  to 
you  young  and  giddy  infants.  There  are  passes  for 
the  statuary  exhibition,  Becky  shall  have  those  ;  here 
are  the  concert  tickets  for  you,  my  musical  girl ;  and 
that  is  for  a  course  of  lectures  on  literature,  which 
I  '11  keep  for  myself." 

As  Kate  dealt  out  the  colored  cards  to  the  grateful 
girls,  Fanny  took  a  good  look  at  her,  wondering  if 
the  time  would  ever  come  when  women  could  earn  & 


270  An  Old- Fashioned  Girl. 

little  money  and  success,  without  paying  such  a 
heavy  price  for  them  ;  for  Kate  looked  sick,  tired,  and 
too  early  old.  Then  her  eye  went  to  the  unfinished 
statue,  and  she  said,  impulsively,  — 

"  I  hope  you  '11  put  that  in  marble,  and  show  us 
what  we  ought  to  be." 

"  I  wish  I  could  !  "  And  an  intense  desire  shone 
in  Rebecca's  face,  as  she  saw  her  faulty  work,  and  felt 
how  fair  her  model  was. 

For  a  minute,  the  five  young  women  sat  silent,  look 
ing  up  at  the  beautiful,  strong  figure  before  them,  each 
longing  to  see  it  done,  and  each  unconscious  that  she 
was  helping,  by  her  individual  effort  and  experience, 
to  bring  the  day  when  their  noblest  ideal  of  woman 
hood  should  be  embodied  in  flesh  and  blood,  not  clay. 

The  city  bells  rung  one,  and  Polly  started  up. 

"  I  must  go,  for  I  promised  a  neighbor  of  mine  a 
lesson  at  two." 

"  I  thought  this  was  a  holiday,"  said  Fanny. 

"  So  it  is,  but  this  is  a  little  labor  of  love,  and 
does  n't  spoil  the  day  at  all.  The  child  has  talent, 
loves  music,  and  needs  help.  I  can't  give  her  money, 
but  I  can  teach  her ;  so  I  do,  and  she  is  the  most 
promising  pupil  I  have.  Help  one  another,  is  part  of 
the  religion  of  our  sisterhood,  Fan." 

"  I  must  put  you  in  a  story,  Polly.  I  want  a  hero 
ine,  and  you  will  do,"  said  Kate. 

"  Me  !  why,  there  never  was  such  a  humdrum,  un- 
romantic  thing  as  I  am,"  cried  Polly,  amazed. 

"  I  've  booked  you,  nevertheless,  so  in  you  go  ;  but 
you  may  add  as  much  romance  as  you  like,  it 's  time 
you  did." 


The  Sunny  Side.  271 

"  I  'm  ready  for  it  when  it  comes,  but  it  can't  be 
forced,  you  know,"  and  Polly  blushed  and  smiled  as  if 
some  little  spice  of  that  delightful  thing  had  stolen 
into  her  life,  for  all  its  prosaic  seeming. 

Fanny  was  amused  to  see  that  the  girls  did  not  kiss 
at  parting,  but  shook  hands  in  a  quiet,  friendly  fash 
ion,  looking  at  one  another  with  eyes  that  said  more 
than  the  most  "  gushing"  words. 

"  I  like  your  friends  very  much,  Polly.  I  was 
afraid  I  should  find  them  mannish  and  rough,  or  senti 
mental  and  conceited.  But  they  are  simple,  sensible 
creatures,  full  of  talent,  and  all  sorts  of  fine  things. 
I  admire  and  respect  them,  and  want  to  go  again,  if 
I  may." 

u  Oh,  Fan,  I  am  so  glad !  I  hoped  you  'd  like  them, 
I  knew  they  'd  do  you  good,  and  I  '11  take  you  any 
time,  for  you  stood  the  test  better  than  I  expected. 
Becky  asked  me  to  bring  you  again,  and  she  seldom 
does  that  for  fashionable  young  ladies,  let  me  tell 
you." 

"  I  want  to  be  ever  so  much  better,  and  I  think  you 
and  they  might  show  me  how,"  said  Fanny,  with  a 
traitorous  tremble  in  her  voice. 

u  We  '11  show  you  the  sunny  side  of  poverty  and 
work,  and  that  is  a  useful  lesson  for  any  one,  Miss 
Mills  says,"  answered  Polly,  hoping  that  Fan  would 
learn  how  much  the  poor  can  teach  the  rich,  and  what 
belpful  friends  girls  may  be  to  one  another. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 
NIPPED  IN  THE   BUD. 

ON  the  evening  of  Fan's  visit,  Polly  sat  down  before 
her  fire  with  a  resolute  and  thoughtful  aspect. 
She  pulled  her  hair  down,  turned  her  skirt  back,  put  her 
feet  on  the  fender,  and  took  Puttel  into  her  lap,  all  of 
which  arrangements  signified  that  something  very  im 
portant  had  got  to  be  thought  over  and  settled.  Polly 
did  not  soliloquize  aloud,  as  heroines  on  the  stage  and 
in  books  have  a  way  of  doing,  but  the  conversation' 
she  held  with  herself  was  very  much  like  this, — 

"  I  'm  afraid  there  is  something  in  it.  I  've  tried  to 
think  it 's  nothing  but  vanity  or  imagination,  yet  I 
can't  help  seeing  a  difference,  and  feeling  as  if  I 
aught  not  to  pretend  that  I  don't.  I  know  it 's  con- 
iidered  proper  for  girls  to  shut  their  eyes  and  let 
dungs  come  to  a  crisis,  no  matter  how  much  mischief 
is  done.  But  I  don't  think  it 's  doing  as  we  'd  be  done 
/by,  and  it  seems  a  great  deal  more  honest  to  show  a 
oaan  that  you  don't  love  him,  before  he  has  entirely 
tost  his  heart.  The  girls  laughed  at  me  when  I  said 
*o,  and  they  declared  that  it  would  be  a  very  im 
proper  thing  to  do  ;  but  I  've  observed  that  they  don't 
hesitate  to  snub  '  ineligible  parties,'  as  they  call  poor, 


Nipped  in  the  Bud.  273 

very  young,  or  unpopular  men.  It 's  all  right  then  ; 
but  when  a  nice  person  comes,  it 's  part  of  the  fun  to 
let  him  go  on  to  the  very  end,  whether  the  girls  care 
for  him  or  not.  The  more  proposals,  the  more  credit. 
Fan  says  Trix  always  asks  when  she  comes  home 
after  the  summer  excursions,  l  How  manj-  birds  have 
you  bagged?'  as  if  men  were  partridges.  What 
wicked  creatures  we  are !  some  of  us  at  least.  I 
wonder  why  such  a  love  of  conquest  was  put  into  us  ? 
Mother  says  a  great  deal  of  it  is  owing  to  bad  edu 
cation  nowadays,  but  some  girls  seem  born  for  the 
express  purpose  of  making  trouble,  and  would  man 
age  to  do  it,  if  they  lived  in  a  howling  wilderness. 
1  'in  afraid  I  've  got  a  spice  of  it,  and  if  I  had  the 
chance,  should  be  as  bad  as  any  of  them.  I  've  tried 
it  and  liked  it,  and  maybe  this  is  the  consequence  of 
that  night's  fun." 

Here  Polly  leaned  back  and  looked  up  at  the  little 
mirror  over  the  chimney-piece,  which  was  hung  so 
that  it  reflected  the  faces  of  those  about  the  fire.  In 
it  Polly  saw  a  pair  of  telltale  eyes  looking  out  from 
a  tangle  of  bright  brown  hair,  cheeks  that  flushed  and 
dimpled  suddenly,  as  the  fresh  mouth  smiled  with 
an  expression  of  conscious  power,  half  proud,  half 
ashamed,  and  as  pretty  to  see  as  the  coquettish  ges 
ture  with  which  she  smoothed  back  her  curls,  and 
flourished  a  white  hand.  For  a  minute  she  regarded 
the  pleasant  picture,  wrhile  visions  of  girlish  romances 
and  triumphs  danced  through  her  head ;  then  she 
shook  her  hair  all  over  her  face,  and  pushed  her  chair 
out  of  range  of  the  mirror,  sajang,  with  a  droll  mix 
ture  of  self-reproach  and  self-approval  in  her  tone,  — 

18 


274  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

"  Oh,  Puttel,  Puttel,  what  a  fool  I  am !  " 

Puss  appeared  to  endorse  the  sentiment  by  a  loud 
purr  and  a  graceful  wave  of  her  tail,  and  Polly  re 
turned  to  the  subject  from  which  these  little  vanities 
had  beguiled  her. 

"  Just  suppose  it  is  true,  that  he  does  ask  me,  and 
I  say  yes !  What  a  stir  it  would  make,  and  what 
fun  it  would  be  to  see  the  faces  of  the  girls  when  it 
came  out !  They  all  think  a  great  deal  of  him  because 
he  is  so  hard  to  please,  and  almost  any  of  them  would 
feel  immensely  flattered  if  he  liked  them,  whether  they 
chose  to  marry  him  or  not.  Trix  has  tried  for  years 
to  fascinate  him,  and  he  can't  bear  her,  and  I  'm  so 
glad !  What  a  spiteful  thing  I  am.  Well,  I  can't  help 
it,  she  does  aggravate  me  so ! "  and  Polly  gave  the 
cat  such  a  tweak  of  the  ear  that  Puttel  bounced  out 
of  her  lap  in  high  dudgeon. 

"  It  don't  do  to  think  of  her,  and  I  won't !  "  said 
Polly  to  herself,  setting  her  lips  with  a  grim  look  that 
was  not  at  all  becoming.  "What  an  easy  life  I 
should  have  ;  plenty  of  money,  quantities  of  friends, 
all  sorts  of  pleasures,  and  no  work,  no  poverty,  no 
cold  shoulders  or  patched  boots.  I  could  do  so  much 
for  all  at  home,  —  how  I  should  enjoy  that !  "  and 
Polly  let  her  thoughts  revel  in  the  luxurious  future 
her  fancy  painted.  It  was  a  very  bright  picture,  but 
something  seemed  amiss  with  it,  for  presently  she 
sighed  and  shook  her  head,  thinking  sorrowfully. 
"  Ah,  but  1  don't  love  him,  and  I'm  afraid  I  never 
can  as  I  ought !  He 's  very  good,  and  generous,  and 
wise,  and  would  be  kind,  I  know,  but  somehow  I  can't 
imagine  spending  my  life  with  him  ;  I  'm  so  afraid  I 


Nipped^  in  the  Bud.  275 

get  tired  of  him,  and  then  what  should  I  do? 
Polly  Sydney  don't  sound  well,  and  Mrs.  Arthur  Syd 
ney  don't  seem  to  fit  me  a  bit.  Wonder  how  it  would 
seem  to  call  him  4  Arthur  ? ' "  and  Polly  said  it  under 
her  breath,  with  a  look  over  her  shoulder  to  be  sure  no 
one  heard  it.  "  It's  a  pretty  name,  but  rather  too  fine, 
and  I  should  n't  dare  to  say  '  Syd,'  as  his  sister  does. 
I  like  short,  plain,  home-like  names,  such  as  Will,  Ned, 
or  Tom.  No,  no,  I  can  never  care  for  him,  and  it 's  no 
use  to  try ! "  The  exclamation  broke  from  Polly  as 
if  a  sudden  trouble  had  seized  her,  and  laying  her 
head  down  on  her  knees,  she  sat  motionless  for  many 
minutes. 

When  she  looked  up,  her  face  wore  an  expression 
which  no  one  had  ever  seen  on  it  before ;  a  look  ol 
mingled  pain  and  patience,  as  if  some  loss  had  come 
to  her,  and  left  the  bitterness  of  regret  behind. 

"  I  won't  think  of  myself,  or  try  to  mend  one  mis 
take  by  making  another,"  she  said,  with  a  heavy  sigh. 
"  I  '11  do  what  I  can  for  Fan,  and  not  stand  between 
her  and  a  chance  of  happiness.  Let  me  see,  how  can 
I  begin  ?  I  won't  walk  with  him  any  more  ;  I  '11  dodge 
and  go  roundabout  ways,  so  that  we  can't  meet.  I 
never  had  much  faith  in  the  remarkable  coincidence 
of  his  always  happening  home  to  dinner  just  as  I  go 
to  give  the  Roths  their  lesson.  The  fact  is,  I  like  to 
iceet  him,  I  am  glad  to  be  seen  with  him,  and  put  on 
airs,  I  dare  say,  like  a  vain  goose  as  I  am.  Well,  I 
won't  do  it  any  more,  and  that  will  spare  Fan  one 
affliction.  Poor  dear,  how  I  must  have  worried  her 
all  this  time,  and  never  guessed  it.  She  has  n't  been 
quite  as  kind  as  ever;  but  when  she  got  sharp,  I 


276  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

fancied  it  was  dyspepsia.  Oh,  me !  I  wish  the  other 
trouble  could  be  cured  as  easily  as  this." 

Here  puss  showed  an  amiable  desire  to  forgive  antf 
forget,  and  Polly  took  her  up,  saying  aloud,  — 

44  Puttel,  when  missis  abuses  you,  play  it 's  dyspepsia, 
and  don't  bear  malice,  because  it 's  a  very  trying  dis 
ease,  my  dear." 

Then,  going  back  to  her  thoughts,  she  rambled  on 
again,— 

44  If  he  does  n't  take  that  hint,  I  will  give  him  a 
stronger  one,  for  I  will  not  have  matters  come  to  a 
crisis,  though  I  can't  deny  that  my  wicked  vanity 
strongly  tempts  me  to  try  and  4bag  a  bird,'  just  for 
the  excitement  and  credit  of  the  thing.  Polly, 
I  'in  ashamed  of  you !  What  would  your  blessed 
mother  say  to  hear  such  expressions  from  you? 
I  'd  write  and  tell  her  all  the  worry,  only  it  would  n't 
do  any  good,  and  would  only  trouble  her.  I've 
no  right  to  tell  Fan's  secrets,  and  I'm  ashamed 
to  tell  mine.  No,  I  '11  leave  mother  in  peace,  and 
light  it  out  alone.  I  do  think  Fan  would  suit  him  ex 
cellently  by  and  by.  He  has  known  her  all  her  life, 
and  has  a  good  influence  over  her.  Love  would  do  so 
much  toward  making  her  what  she  might  be ;  it 's  a 
shame  to  have  the  chance  lost  just  because  he  happens 
to  see  me.  I  should  think  she  'd  hate  me  ;  but  I  'J I 
show  her  that  she  need  n't,  and  do  all  I  can  to  help 
her  ;  for  she  has  been  so  good  to  me  nothing  shall  ever 
make  me  forget  that.  It  is  a  delicate  and  dangerous 
task,  but  I  guess  I  can  manage  it ;  at  any  rate  I  '11  try, 
and  have  nothing  to  reproach  myself  with  if  things  do 
go  4  contrary.' " 


Nipped  in  the  Bud.  277 

What  Polly  thought  of,  as  she  lay  back  in  her  chair, 
with  her  eyes  shut,  and  a  hopeless  look  on  her  face,  i& 
none  of  our  business,  though  we  might  feel  a  wish  to 
know  what  caused  a  tear  to  gather  slowly  from  time 
to  time  under  her  lashes,  and  roll  down  on  Puttel's 
Quaker-colored  coat.  Was  it  regret  for  the  conquest 
Bhe  relinquished,  was  it  sympathy  for  her  friend,  or 
was  it  an  uncontrollable  overflow  of  feeling,  as  she 
read  some  sad  or  tender  passage  of  the  little  romance 
which  she  kept  hid  away  in  her  own  heart  ? 

On  Monday,  Polly  began  the  "  delicate  and  dan 
gerous  task."  Instead  of  going  to  her  pupils  by  way 
of  the  park,  and  the  pleasant  streets  adjoining,  she 
took  a  roundabout  route,  through  back  streets*  and 
thus  escaped  Mr.  Sydney,  who,  as  usual,  came  home 
to  dinner  very  early  that  day,  and  looked  disappointed 
.because  he  nowhere  saw  the  bright  face  in  the  modest 
bonnet.  Poll}7  kept  this  up  for  a  week,  and  by  care 
fully  avoiding  the  Shaws'  house  during  calling  hours, 
she  saw  nothing  of  Mr.  Sydney,  who,  of  course,  did  n't 
visit  her  at  Miss  Mills'.  Minnie  happened  to  be 
poorly  that  week,  and  took  no  lesson,  so  Uncle  Syd 
was  deprived  of  his  last  hope,  and  looked  as  if  his 
allowance  of  sunshine  had  been  suddenly  cut  off. 

Now,  as  Polly  was  by  no  means  a  perfect  creature, 
1  am  free  to  confess  that  the  old  temptation  assailed 
her  more  than  once  that  week,  for,  when  the  first 
excitement  of  the  dodging  reform  had  subsided,  she 
missed  the  pleasant  little  interviews  that  used  to  put 
a  certain  flavor  of  romance  into  her  dull,  hard-working 
clays.  She  liked  Mr.  Sydney  very  much,  for  he  had 
always  been  kind  and  friendly  since  the  early  times 


278  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

when  he  had  treated  the  little  girl  with  a  courtesy 
which  the  young  woman  gratefully  remembered.  I 
don't  think  it  was  his  wealth,  accomplishments,  or 
position  that  most  attracted  Polly,  though  these  doubt 
less  possessed  a  greater  influence  than  she  suspected. 
It  was  that  indescribable  something  which  women 
are  quick  to  see  and  feel  in  men  who  have  been  blessed 
with  wise  and  good  mothers.  This  had  an  especial 
charm  to  Polly,  for  she  soon  found  that  this  side  of 
his  character  was  not  shown  to  every  one.  With 
most  girls,  he  was  very  like  the  other  young  men  of 
his  set,  except  perhaps  in  a  certain  grace  of  manner, 
which  was  as  natural  to  him  as  his  respect  for  all 
womankind.  But  with  Fanny  and  Polly,  he  showed 
the  domestic  traits  and  virtues  which  are  more  engag 
ing  to  womanly  women  than  any  amount  of  cool  intel 
lect  or  worldly  wisdom. 

Polly  had  seen  a  good  deal  of  him  during  her  visits 
at  the  Shaws',  where  he  was  intimate,  owing  to  the 
friendship  between  Madam  and  his  mother  ;  but  she 
had  never  thought  of  him  as  a  possible  lover  for 
either  Fanny  or  herself,  because  he  was  six  or  eight 
years  older  than  they,  and  still  sometimes  assumed 
the  part  of  a  venerable  Mentor,  as  in  the  early  days. 
Lately  this  had  changed,  especially  towards  Polly, 
and  it  flattered  her  more  than  she  would  confess  even 
to  herself.  She  knew  he  admired  her  one  talent,  re 
spected  her  independence,  and  enjoyed  her  society ; 
but  when  something  warmer  and  more  flattering  than 
admiration,  respect,  or  pleasure  crept  into  his  man 
ner,  she  could  not  help  seeing  that  one  of  the  good 
gifts  of  this  life  was  daily  coming  more  and  more 


Nipped  in  the  Bud.  279 

within  her  reach,  and  began  to  ask  herself  if  she 
could  honestly  receive  the  gift,  and  reward  the  giver. 

At  filst  she  tried  to  think  she  could  ;  but  unfortu 
nately  hearts  are  so  "  contrairy  "  that  they  won't  be 
obedient  to  reason,  will,  or  even  gratitude.  Polly  felt 
a  very  cordial  friendship  for  Mr.  Sydney,  but  not  one 
particle  of  the  love  which  is  the  only  coin  in  which 
love  can  be  truly  paid.  Then  she  took  a  fancy  into 
her  head  that  she  ought  to  accept  this  piece  of  good 
fortune  for  the  sake  of  the  family,  and  forget  herself. 
But  this  false  idea  of  self-sacrifice  did  not  satisfy, 
for  she  was  not  a  fashionable  girl,  trained  to  believe 
that  her  first  duty  was  to  make  "  a  good  match,"  and 
never  mind  the  consequences,  though  they  rendered 
her  miserable  for  life.  Polly's  creed  was  very  simple  : 
"  If  I  don't  love  him,  I  ought  not  to  marry  him,  es 
pecially  when  I  do  love  somebody  else,  though  every 
thing  is  against  me."  If  she  had  read  as  many 
French  novels  as  some  young  ladies,  she  might  have 
considered  it  interesting  to  marry  under  the  circum 
stances  and  suffer  a  secret  anguish  to  make  her  a 
romantic  victim.  But  Polly's  education  had  been 
neglected,  and  after  a  good  deal  of  natural  indecision, 
she  did  what  most  women  do  in  such  cases,  thought 
she  would  "  wait  and  see." 

The  discovery  of  Fanny's  secret  seemed  to  show 
her  something  to  do,  for  if  the  "  wait-and-see "  de 
cision  was  making  her  friend  unhappy,  it  must  be 
changed  as  soon  as  possible.  This  finished  Polly's 
indecision,  and  after  that  night  she  never  allowed  her 
self  to  dwell  upon  the  pleasant  temptation  which  came 
m  a  guise  particularly  attractive  to  a  young  girl  with 


280  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl 

a  spice  of  the  old  Eve  in  her  composition.  So  day 
after  day  she  trudged  through  the  dull  back  streets, 
longing  for  the  sunny  park,  the  face  that  always 
brightened  when  it  saw  her  coming,  and  most  of  all 
the  chance  of  meeting — well,  it  wasn't  Trix. 

When  Saturday  came,  Polly  started  as  usual  for  a 
visit  to  Beck  and  Bess,  but  could  n't  resist  stopping 
at  the  Shaws',  to  leave  a  little  parcel  for  Fan,  though 
it  was  calling  time.  As  she  stepped  in,  meaning  to 
run  up  for  a  word,  if  Fanny  should  chance  to  be 
alone,  two  hats  on  the  hall  table  arrested  her. 

"  Who  is  here,  Katy?" 

"Only  Mr.  Sydney  and  Master  Tom.  Won't  jou 
stop  a  bit,  Miss  Polly?" 

"  Not  this  morning,  I  'm  rather  in  a  hurry  ;  "  and 
away  went  Polly,  as  if  a  dozen  eager  pupils  were 
clamoring  for  her  presence.  But  as  the  door  shut  be 
hind  her,  she  felt  so  left  out  in  the  cold,  that  her  eyes 
filled,  and  when  Nep,  Tom's  great  Newfoundland, 
came  blundering  after  her,  she  stopped  and  hugged 
his  shaggy  head,  saying  softly,  as  she  looked  into  the 
brown,  benevolent  eyes,  full  of  almost  human  sympa 
thy,— 

"  Now,  go  back,  old  dear  ;  you  must  n't  follow  me. 
Oh,  Nep,  it 's  so  hard  to  put  love  away  when  you  want 
it  very  much,  and  it  is  n't  right  to  take  it." 

A  foolish  little  speech  to  make  to  a  dog ;  but  you 
see  Polly  was  only  a  tender-hearted  girl,  trying  to  do 
her  duty. 

"  Since  he  is  safe  with  Fanny,  I  may  venture  to 
walk  where  I  like.  It 's  such  a  lovely  day,  all  the 
babies  will  be  out,  and  it  always  does  me  good  to  see 


Nipped  in  the  Bud.  281 

them,"  thought  Polly,  turning  into  the  wide,  sunny 
street,  where  West  End-dom  promenaded  at  that 
hour. 

The  babies  were  out  in  full  force,  looking  as  gay 
and  delicate  and  sweet  as  the  snow-drops,  hyacinths, 
and  daffodils  on  the  banks,  whence  the  snow  had 
melted.  But  somehow  the  babies  did  n't  do  Polly 
Uie  good  she  expected,  though  they  smiled  at  her 
from  their  carriages,  and  kissed  their  chubby  hands 
as  she  passed  them,  for  Polly  had  the  sort  of  face 
that  babies  love.  One  tiny  creature  in  blue  plush 
was  casting  despairing  glances  after  a  very  small 
lord  of  creation,  who  was  walking  away  with  a  tod 
dling  belle  in  white,  while  a  second  young  gentleman 
in  gorgeous  purple  gaiters  was  endeavoring  to  con 
sole  the  deserted  damsel. 

"  Take  hold  of  Master  Charley's  hand,  Miss  Mamie, 
and  walk  pretty,  like  Willy  and  Flossy,"  said  the 
maid. 

"  No,  no,  I  want  to  do  wid  Willy,  and  he  won't  let 
me.  Do  'way,  Tarley ;  I  don't  lite  you,"  cried  little 
Blue-bonnet,  casting  down  her  ermine  muff,  and  sob 
bing  in  a  microscopic  handkerchief,  the  thread-lace 
edging  on  which  couldn't  mitigate  her  woe,  as  it 
might  have  done  that  of  an  older  sufferer. 

"  Willy  likes  Flossy  best,  so  stop  crying  and  come 
right  along,  you  naughty  child." 

As  poor  little  Dido  was  jerked  away  by  the  unsym 
pal  hetic  maid,  and  Purple-gaiters  essayed  in  vain  to 
plead  his  cause,  Polly  said  to  herself,  with  a  smile 
and  a  sigh,  — 

44  How  early  the  old  story  begins  1  " 


282  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

It  seemed  as  if  the  spring  weather  had  brought  out 
all  manner  of  tender  things  beside  fresh  grass  and  the 
first  dandelions,  for  as  she  went  down  the  street, 
Polly  kept  seeing  different  phases  of  the  sweet  old 
story  which  she  was  trying  to  forget. 

At  a  street  corner,  a  black-eyed  school-boy  was 
parting  from  a  rosy-faced  school-girl,  whose  music- 
roll  he  was  reluctantly  surrendering. 

"  Don't  you  forget,  now,"  said  the  boy,  looking 
bashfully  into  the  bright  eyes,  that  danced  with  pleas 
ure  as  the  girl  blushed  and  smiled,  and  answered 
reproachfully,  — 

"  Why,  of  course  I  shan't !  " 

"  That  little  romance  runs  smoothly  so  far  ;  I  hope 
it  may  to  the  end,"  said  Polly,  heartily,  as  she  watched 
the  lad  tramp  away,  whistling  as  blithely  as  if  his 
pleasurable  emotions  must  find  a  vent,  or  endanger 
the  buttons  on  the  round  jacket ;  while  the  girl  pranced 
on  her  own  doorstep,  as  if  practising  for  the  joyful 
dance  which  she  had  promised  not  to  forget. 

A  little  farther  on  Polly  passed  a  newly  engaged 
couple  whom  she  knew,  walking  arm  in  arm  for  the 
first  time,  both  wearing  that  proud  yet  conscious  look 
which  is  so  delightful  to  behold  upon  the  countenances 
of  these  temporarily  glorified  beings. 

"  How  happy  they  seem  ;  oh,  dear !  "  said  Polly,  and 
trudged  on,  wondering  if  her  turn  would  ever  come, 
and  fearing  that  it  was  impossible. 

A  glimpse  of  a  motherly  looking  lady  entering  a 
door,  received  by  a  flock  of  pretty  children,  who  cast 
themselves  upon  mamma  and  her  parcels  with  cries  of 
rapture,  did  Polly  good ;  and  when,  a  minute  after, 


Nipped  in  the  Bud.  283 

she  passed  a  gray  old  couple  walking  placidly  together 
in  the  sunshine,  she  felt  better  still,  and  was  glad  to 
see  such  a  happy  ending  to  the  romance  she  had  read 
all  down  the  street. 

As  if  the  mischievous  little  god  wished  to  take  Polly 
at  a  disadvantage,  or  perhaps  to  give  her  another 
chance,  just  at  that  instant  Mr.  Sydney  appeared  at 
her  side.  How  he  got  there  was  never  very  clear  to 
Polly,  but  there  he  was,  flushed,  and  a  little  out  of 
breath,  but  looking  so  glad  to  see  her  that  she  had  n't 
the  heart  to  be  stiff  and  cool,  as  she  had  fully  intended 
to  be  when  they  met. 

"Very  warm,  isn't  it?"  he  said,  when  he  had 
shaken  hands,  and  fallen  into  step,  just  in  the  old  way. 

uYou  seem  to  find  it  so."  And  Polly  laughed, 
with  a  sudden  sparkle  in  her  eyes.  She  really 
could  n't  help  it,  it  was  so  pleasant  to  see  him  again, 
just  when  she  was  feeling  so  lonely. 

"  Have  you  given  up  teaching  the  Roths  ?  "  asked 
Sydney,  changing  the  subject. 

"No." 

"  Do  you  go,  as  usual  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,  it 's  a  mystery  to.me  how  you  get  there." 

"  As  much  as  it  is  to  me  how  you  got  here  so  sud 
denly." 

"  I  saw  you  from  the  Shaws'  window,  and  took  the 
liberty  of  running  after  you  by  the  back  street,"  he 
said,  laughing. 

"  That  is  the  way  I  get  to  the  Roths,"  answered 
Polly.  She  did  not  mean  to  tell,  but  his  frankness 
was  so  agreeable  she  forgot  herself. 


284  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl 

"  It 's  not  nearly  so  pleasant  or  so  short  for  you  as 
the  park." 

"  I  know  it ;  but  people  sometimes  get  tired  of  old 
ways,  and  like  to  try  new  ones." 

Polly  did  n't  say  that  quite  naturally,  and  Sydney 
gave  her  a  quick  look,  as  he  asked,  — 

"  Do  you  get  tired  of  old  friends,  too,  Miss  Polly  ?* 

"Not  often;  but — "  and  there  she  stuck,  for  the 
fear  of  being  ungrateful  or  unkind  made  her  almost 
hope  that  he  would  n't  take  the  hint  which  she  had 
been  carefully  preparing  for  him. 

There  was  a  dreadful  little  pause,  which  Polly 
broke  by  saying,  abruptly,  — 

"How  is  Fan?" 

"  Dashing  as  ever.  Do  you  know  I  'm  rather  dis 
appointed  in  Fanny,  for  she  don't  seem  to  improve 
with  her  years,"  said  Sydney,  as  if  he  accepted  the 
diversion,  and  was  glad  of  it. 

"  Ah,  you  never  see  her  at  her  best.  She  puts  on 
that  dashing  air  before  people  to  hide  her  real  self. 
But  I  know  her  better ;  and  I  assure  you  that  she 
does  improve ;  she  tries  to  mend  her  faults,  though 
she  won't  own  it,  and  will  surprise  you  some  da}~,  by 
the  amount  of  heart  and  s.ense  and  goodness  she  has 
got." 

Polly  spoke  heartily  now,  and  Sydney  looked  at  hei 
a*  if  Fanny's  defender  pleased  him  more  than  Fanny's 
defence. 

"I'm  very  glad  to  hear  it,  and  willingly  take  your 
word  for  it.  Everybody  shows  you  their  good  side, 
I  think,  and  that  is  why  you  find  the  world  sucii  a 
pleasant  place." 


Nipped  in  the  Bud.  285 

"  Oh,  but  I  don't !  It  often  seems  like  a  very  hard 
and  dismal  place,  and  I  croak  over  my  trials  like  an 
ungrateful  raven." 

"  Can't  we  make  the  trials  lighter  for  you?" 

The  voice  that  put  the  question  was  so  very  kind, 
that  Polly  dared  not  look  up,  because  she  knew  what 
tho  eyes  were  silently  saying. 

"  Thank  you,  no.  I  don't  get  more  tribulation  than 
is  good  for  me,  I  fancy,  and  we  are  apt  to  make  mis 
takes  when  we  try  to  dodge  troubles." 

44  Or  people,"  added  Sydney,  in  a  tone  that  made 
Polly  color  up  to  her  forehead. 

u  How  lovely  the  park  looks,"  she  said,  in  great 
confusion. 

44  Yes,  it 's  the  pleasantest  walk  we  have  ;  don't  you 
think  so  ?  "  asked  the  artful  young  man,  laying  a  trap, 
into  which  Polly  immediately  fell. 

4<  Yes,  indeed !  it 's  always  so  refreshing  to  me  to 
see  a  little  bit  of  the  country,  as  it  were,  especially  at 
this  season." 

Oh,  Polly,  Polly,  what  a  stupid  speech  to  make, 
when  you  had  just  given  him  to  understand  that  you 
were  tired  of  the  park  !  Not  being  a  fool  or  a  cox 
comb,  Sydney  put  this  and  that  together,  and  taking 
various  trifles  into  the  account,  he  had  by  this  time 
come  to  the  conclusion  that  Polly  had  heard  the  same 
bits  of  gossip  that  he  had,  which  linked  their  names 
togethei ,  that  she  did  n't  like  it,  and  tried  to  show  she 
did  n't  in  this  way.  He  was  quicker  to  take  a  hint 
than  she  had  expected,  and  being  both  proud  and 
generous,  resolved  to  settle  the  matter  at  once,  for 
Polly's  sake,  as  well  as  his  own.  So,  when  she  made 


286  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

her  last  brilliant  remark,  he  said  quietly,  watching 
her  face  keenly  all  the  while,  — 

"  I  thought  so ;  well,  I  'm  going  out  of  town  on 
business  for  several  weeks,  so  you  can  enjoy  your 
'  little  bit  of  country '  without  being  annoyed  by  me." 

"Annoyed?  oh,  no!"  cried  Polly,  earnestly;  then 
stopped  short,  not  knowing  what  to  say  for  herself. 

She  thought  she  had  a  good  deal  of  the  coquette  in 
her,  and  I  've  no  doubt  that  with  time  and  training 
she  would  have  become  a  very  dangerous  little  per 
son,  but  now  she  was  far  too  transparent  and  straight 
forward  by  nature  even  to  tell  a  white  lie  cleverly. 
Sydney  knew  this,  and  liked  her  for  it,  but  he  took 
advantage  of  it,  nevertheless,  by  asking  suddenly,  — 

"  Honestly,  now,  would  n't  you  go  the  old  way  and 
enjoy  it  as  much  as  ever,  if  I  was  n't  anywhere  about 
to  set  the  busy  bodies  gossiping  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Poll}',  before  she  could  stop  herself,  and 
then  could  have  bitten  her  tongue  out  for  being  so 
rude.  Another  awful  pause  seemed  impending,  but 
just  at  that  moment  a  horseman  clattered  by  with  a 
smile  and  a  salute,  which  caused  Polly  to  exclaim, 
"  Oh,  there  's  Tom ! "  with  a  tone  and  a  look  that 
silenced  the  words  hovering  on  Sydney's  lips,  and 
caused  him  to  hold  out  his  hand  with  a  look  which 
made  Polly's  heart  flutter  then  and  ache  with  pity  for 
a  good  while  afterward,  though  he  only  said,  "  Good 
by,  Polly." 

He  was  gone  before  she  could  do  anything  but  look 
up  at  him  with  a  remorseful  face,  and  she  walked  on, 
feeling  that  the  first  and  perhaps  the  only  lover  she 
would  ever  have,  had  read  his  answer  and  accepted  vt 


Nipped  in  the  Bud.  287 

in  silence.  She  did  not  know  what  else  he  had  read, 
and  comforted  herself  with  the  thought  that  he  did 
not  care  for  her  very  much,  since  he  took  the  first 
rebuff  so  quickly. 

Polly  did  not  return  to  her  favorite  walk  till  she 
learned  from  Minnie  that  "Uncle"  had  really  left 
town,  and  then  she  found  that  his  friendly  company 
and  conversation  was  what  had  made  the  way  so 
pleasant,  after  all.  She  sighed  over  the  perver 
sity  of  things  in  general,  and  croaked  a  little 
over  her  trials  in  particular,  but  on  the  whole  got 
over  her  loss  better  than  she  expected,  for  soon 
she  had  other  sorrows  beside  her  own  to  com 
fort,  and  such  work  does  a  body  more  good  than 
floods  of  regretful  tears,  or  hours  of  sentimental 
lamentation. 

She  shunned  Fanny  for  a  day  or  two,  but  gained 
nothing  by  it,  for  that  young  lady,  hearing  of  Sydney's 
Sudden  departure,  could  not  rest  till  she  discovered 
the  cause  of  it,  and  walked  in  upon  Polly  one  after 
noon  just  when  the  dusk  made  it  a  propitious  hour  for 
tender  confidences. 

44  What  have  you  been  doing  with  yourself  lately  ?  " 
asked  Fanny,  composing  herself,  with  her  back  toward 
the  rapidly  waning  light. 

44  Wagging  to  and  fro  as  usual.  What 's  the  news 
with  you?"  answered  Polly,  feeling  that  something 
was  coming,  and  rather  glad  to  have  it  over  and  done 
with. 

44  Nothing  particular.  Trix  treats  Tom  shamefully, 
and  he  bears  it  like  a  lamb.  I  tell  him  to  break  his 
engagement,  and  not  be  worried  so;  but  he  won't, 


288  An   O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

because  she  has  been  jilted  once,  and  he  thinks  it 's 
such  a  mean  thing  to  do." 

"  Perhaps  shell  jilt  him." 

"I've  no  doubt  she  will,  if  anything  better  conies 
along.  But  Trix  is  getting  passee,  and  I  should  n't 
wonder  if  she  kept  Mm  to  his  word,  just  out  of  per 
versity,  if  nothing  else." 

"  Poor  Tom,  what  a  fate  !  "  said  Polly,  with  what 
was  meant  to  be  a  comical  groan ;  but  it  sounded  so 
tragical,  that  she  saw  it  would  n't  pass,  and  hastened 
to  hide  the  failure  by  saying,  with  a  laugh,  "  If  you 
call  Trix  passee  at  twenty- three,  what  shall  we  all  be 
at  twent}-five  ?  " 

"Utterly  done  with,  and  laid  upon  the  shelf.  I 
feel  so  already,  for  I  don't  get  half  the  attention  I  used 
to  have,  and  the  other  night  I  heard  Maud  and  Grace 
wondering  why  those  old  girls  '  did  n't  stay  at  home, 
and  give  them  a  chance/  " 

"  How  is  Maudie?" 

"  Pretty  well ;  but  she  worries  me  by  her  queer 
tastes  and  notions.  She  loves  to  go  into  the  kitchen 
and  mess,  she  hates  to  study,  and  said  right  before 
the  Vincents,  that  she  should  think  it  would  be  great 
fun  to  be  a  beggar-girl,  to  go  round  with  a  basket,  it 
must  be  so  interesting  to  see  what  you  'd  get/' 

"  Minnie  said  the  other  day  sbe  wished  she  was  a 
pigeon,  so  she  could  paddle  in  the  puddles,  and  not 
fuss  about  rubbers." 

"By  the  way,  when  is  her  uncle  coming  back?" 
asked  Fanny,  who  could  n't  wait  any  longer,  and  joy 
fully  seized  the  opening  Polly  made  for  her. 

"  I  'm  sure  I  don't  know." 


Nipped  in  the  Bud.  289 

*'  Nor  care,  I  suppose,  you  hard-hearted  thing." 

"  Why,  Fan,  what  do  you  mean?  " 

"  I  'in  not  blind,  my  dear,  neither  is  Tom  ;  and  when 
a  young  gentleman  cuts  a  call  abruptly  short,  and 
races  after  a  young  lady,  and  is  seen  holding  her  hand 
at  the  quietest  corner  of  the  park,  and  then  goes  trav 
elling  all  of  a  sudden,  we,  know  what  it  means,  if  you 
don't." 

"  Who  got  up  that  nice  idea,  I  should  like  to  know  ?" 
demanded  Polly,  as  Fanny  stopped  for  breath. 

u  Now  don't  be  affected,  Polly,  but  just  tell  me,  like 
a  dear,  has  n't  he  proposed  ?  " 

"No,  he  hasn't." 

u  Don't  you  think  he  means  to  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  he  '11  ever  say  a  word  to  me." 

"  Well,  I  am  surprised ! "  and  Fanny  drew  a  long 
breath  as  if  a  load  was  off  her  mind.  Then  she  added, 
in  a  changed  tone,  — 

"  But  don't  j^ou  love  him,  Polly? " 

"  No." 

"Truly?" 

"  Truly,  Fan." 

Neither  spoke  for  a  minute,  but  the  heart  of  one  of 
them  beat  joyfully,  and  the  dusk  hid  a  very  happy  face. 

"  Don't  you  think  he  cared  for  you,  dear  ?  "  asked 
Fanny,  presently.  "  I  don't  mean  to  be  prying,  but 
I  really  thought  he  did." 

"  That 's  not  for  me  to  say ;  but  if  it  is  so,  it 's 
onljr  a  passing  fancy,  and  he  '11  soon  get  over  it." 

"  Do  tell  me  all  about  it ;  I  'm  so  interested,  and  I 
know  something  has  happened,  I  hear  it  in  your  voice, 
for  I  can't  see  your  face." 
19 


290  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

"  Do  you  remember  the  talk  we  once  had  after 
reading  one  of  Miss  Edgeworth's  stories,  about  not 
letting  one's  lovers  come  to  a  declaration,  if  one 
did  n't  love  them?" 

"  Yes." 

"  And  you  girls  said  it  was  n't  proper,  and  I  said  it 
was  honest,  any  way.  Well,  I  always  meant  to  try  it 
if  I  got  a  chance  ;  and  I  have.  Mind  you,  I  don't  say 
Mr.  Sydney  loved  me,  for  he  never  said  so,  and  never 
will,  now ;  but  I  did  fancy  he  rather  liked  me,  and 
might  do  more  if  I  did  n't  show  him  that  it  was  of  no 
use." 

"  And  you  did  ?  "  cried  Fanny,  much  excited. 

"  I  just  gave  him  a  hint,  and  he  took  it.  He  meant 
to  go  away  before  that,  so  don't  think  his  heart  is 
broken,  or  mind  what  silly  tattlers  say.  I  did  n't  like 
his  meeting  me  so  much,  and  told  him  so  by  going 
another  way.  He  understood,  and  being  a  gentle 
man,  made  no  fuss.  I  dare  say  he  thought  I  was  a 
vain  goose,  and  laughed  at  me  for  my  pains,  like 
Churchill  in  «  Helen.'  " 

"  No,  he  would  n't ;  he  'd  like  it,  and  respect  you  for 
doing  it.  But,  Polly,  it  would  have  been  a  grand 
thing  for  you." 

"  I  can't  sell  myself  for  an  establishment." 

"  Mercy !  what  an  idea !  " 

"  Well,  that 's  the  plain  English  of  half  your  fash 
ionable  matches.  I  'm  4  odd/  you  know,  and  prefer 
to  be  an  independent  spinster,  and  teach  music  all 
my  days." 

"  Ah,  but  you  won't.  You  were  made  for  a  nice, 
happy  home  of  your  own,  and  I  hope  you  '11  get  it, 


Nipped  in  the  Bud.  291 

Polly,  dear,"  said  Fanny,  warmly,  feeling  so  grateful 
to  Polly,  that  she  found  it  hard  not  to  pour  out  all 
her  secret  at  once. 

"  I  hope  I  may ;  but  I  doubt  it,"  answered  Polly,  in 
a  tone  that  made  Fanny  wonder  if  she,  too,  knew 
what  heartache  meant. 

"  Something  troubles  you,  Polly,  what  is  it?  Con 
fide  in  me,  as  I  do  in  you,"  said  Fanny,  tenderly ;  for 
all  the  coldness  she  had  tried  to  hide  from  Polly,  had 
melted  in  the  sudden  sunshine  that  had  come  to  her*. 

"Do  you  always?"  asked  her  friend,  leaning  for 
ward  with  an  irresistible  desire  to  win  back  the 
old-time  love  and  confidence,  too  precious  to  be  ex 
changed  for  a  little  brief  excitement,  or  the  barren 
honor  of  "bagging  a  bird,"  to  use  Trix's  elegant 
expression.  Fanny  understood  it  then,  and  threw 
herself  into  Polly's  arms,  crying,  with  a  shower  of 
grateful  tears,  — 

"  Oh,  my  dear !  my  dear !  did  you  do  it  for  my 
sake?" 

And  Polly  held  her  close,  saying,  in  that  tender 
voice  of  hers,  — 

"  I  did  n't  mean  to  let  a  lover  part  this  pair  of 
friends,  if  I  could  help  it." 


CHAPTER  XV. 

BREAKERS   AHEAD. 

GOING  into  the  Shaws*  one  evening,  Polly  found 
Maud  sitting  on  the  stairs,  with  a  troubled  face. 

"  Oh,  Polly,  I  'm  so  glad  you  've  come  !  "  cried  the 
little  girl,  running  to  hug  her. 

"  What 's  the  matter,  deary  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  ;  something  dreadful  must  have  hap 
pened,  for  mamma  and  Fan  are  crying  together  up 
stairs,  papa  is  shut  up  in  the  library,  and  Tom  is 
raging  round  like  a  bear,  in  the  dining-room." 

"  I  guess  it  is  n't  anything  very  bad.  Perhaps 
mamma  is  sicker  than  usual,  or  papa  worried  about 
business,  or  Tom  in  some  new  scrape.  Don't  look 
so  frightened,  Maudie,  but  come  into  the  parlor  and 
see  what  I  've  got  for  you,"  said  Polly,  feeling  that 
there  was  trouble  of  some  sort  in  the  air,  but  tr3Ting 
to  cheer  the  child,  for  her  little  face  was  full  of  a 
sorrowful  anxiety,  that  went  to  Polly's  heart. 

"  I  don't  think  I  can  like  anything  till  I  know  what 
the  matter  is,"  answered  Maud.  "It's  something 
horrid,  I  'in  sure,  for  when  papa  came  home,  he  went 
up  to  mamma's  room,  and  talked  ever  so  long,  and 
mamma  cried  very  loud,  and  when  I  tried  to  go  in, 


Breakers  Ahead.  293 

Fan  would  n't  let  me,  and  she  looked  scared  and 
strange.  I  wanted  to  go  to  papa  when  he  came 
down,  but  the  door  was  locked,  and  he  said,  '  Not 
now,  my  little  girl,'  and  then  I  sat  here  waiting  to 
see  what  would  happen,  and  Tom  came  home.  But 
when  I  ran  to  tell  him,  he  said,  4  Go  away,  and  don't 
bother/  and  just  took  me  by  the  shoulders  and  put 
me  out.  Oh,  dear !  everything  is  so  queer  and 
horrid,  I  don't  know  what  to  do." 

Maud  began  to  cry,  and  Polly  sat  down  on  the 
stairs  beside  her,  trying  to  comfort  her,  while  her 
own  thoughts  were  full  of  a  vague  fear.  All  at  once 
the  dining-room  door  opened,  and  Tom's  head  ap 
peared.  A  single  glance  showed  Polly  that  some 
thing  was  the  matter,  for  the  care  and  elegance  which 
usually  marked  his  appearance  were  entirely  want 
ing.  His  tie  was  under  one  ear,  his  hair  in  a  toss, 
the  cherished  moustache  had  a  neglected  air,  and  his 
face  an  expression  both  excited,  ashamed,  and  dis 
tressed  ;  even  his  voice  betrayed  disturbance,  for  in 
stead  of  the  affable  greeting  he  usually  bestowed  upon 
the  young  lady,  he  seemed  to  have  fallen  back  into 
the  bluff  tone  of  his  bojdsh  days,  and  all  he  said 
was, — 

"  Hullo,  Polly." 

"  How  do  you  do?"  answered  Polly. 

"  I  'm  in  a  devil  of  a  mess,  thank  you  ;  send  that 
chicken  up  stairs,  and  come  in  and  hear  about  it,"  he 
said,  as  if  he  had  been  longing  to  tell  some  one,  and 
welcomed  prudent  Polly  as  a  special  providence. 

"  Go  up,  deary,  and  amuse  yourself  with  this  book, 
and  these  ginger  snaps  that  I  made  for  you,  there 's  a 


294  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

good  child,"  whispered  Polly,  as  Maud  rubbed  away 
her  tears,  and  stared  at  Tom  with  round,  inquisitive 
eyes. 

"  You  '11  tell  me  all  about  it,  by  and  by,  won't 
you?"  she  whispered,  preparing  to  obey. 

"  If  I  may,"  answered  Polly. 

Maud  departed  with  unexpected  docility,  and  Polly 
went  into  the  dining-room,  where  Tom  was  wandering 
about  in  a  restless  way.  If  he  had  been  "  raging  like 
a  bear,"  Polly  would  n't  have  cared,  she  was  so  pleased 
that  he  wanted  her,  and  so  glad  to  be  a  confidante,  as 
she  used  to  be  in  the  happy  old  days,  that  she  would 
joyfully  have  faced  a  much  more  formidable  person 
than  reckless  Tom. 

u  Now,  then,  what  is  it?"  she  said,  coming  straight 
to  the  point. 

"  Guess." 

"  You  've  killed  your  horse  racing." 

"  Worse  than  that." 

"  You  are  suspended  again." 

"  Worse  than  that." 

"  Trix  has  run  away  with  somebody,"  cried  Polly, 
with  a  gasp. 

"  Worse  still." 

"  Oh,  Tom,  you  have  n't  horsewhipped  or  shot  any 
one?" 

"  Came  pretty  near  blowing  my  own  brains  out,  but 
you  see  I  did  n't." 

"  I  can't  guess  ;  tell  me,  quick." 

"Well,  I'm  expelled." 

Tom  paused  on  the  rug  as  he  gave  the  answer,  and 
looked  at  Polly  to  see  how  she  took  it.  To  his  sur 


Breakers  Ahead.  295 

prise  she  seemed  almost  relieved,  and  after  a  minute's 
silence,  said,  soberly, — 

"  That 's  bad,  very  bad ;  but  it  might  have  been 
worse." 

"  It  is  worse;"  and  Tom  walked  away  again  with  a 
despairing  sort  of  groan. 

"  Don't  knock  the  chairs  about,  but  come  and  sit 
down,  and  tell  me  quietly." 

44  Can't  do  it." 

"Well,  go  on  then.  Are  you  truly  expelled?  Can't 
it  be  made  up  ?  What  did  you  do  ?  " 

"It's  a  true  bill  this  time.  I  just  had  a  row 
with  the  Chapel  watchman,  and  knocked  him  down. 
If  it  was  a  first  offence,  I  might  have  got  off;  but 
you  see  I've  had  no  end  of  narrow  escapes,  and 
this  was  my  last  chance ;  I  've  lost  it,  and  now 
there  '11  be  the  dickens  to  .pay.  I  knew  it  was  all  up 
with  me,  so  I  did  n't  wait  to  be  turned  out,  but  just 
took  myself  off." 

"  What  will  your  father  say?" 

"  It  will  come  hard  on  the  governor,  but  the  worst 
of  it  is  —  "  there  Tom  stopped,  and  stood  a  minute  in 
the  middle  of  the  room  with  his  head  down,  as  if  he 
did  n't  find  it  easy  to  tell  even  kind  little  Polly.  Then 
out  came  the  truth  all  in  a  breath,  just  as  he  used  to 
bolt  out  his  boyish  misdemeanors,  and  then  back  up 
against  the  wall  ready  to  take  the  consequences. 

44 1  owe  an  awful  lot  of  money  that  the  governor 
don't  know  about." 

44  Oh,  Tom,  how  could  you?" 

44 1  've  been  an  extravagant  rascal,  I  know  it,  and 
I  'm  thundering  sorry,  but  that  don't  help  a  fellow. 


296  An  Old-Fashioned  GirL 

I  've  got  to  tell  the  dear  old  buffer,  and  there 's  where 
it  cuts." 

At  another  time  Polly  would  have  laughed  at  the 
contrast  between  Tom's  face  and  his  language,  but 
there  was  a  sincere  remorse,  which  made  even  the 
dreadful  word  u  buffer "  rather  touching  than  oth 
erwise. 

"  He  will  be  very  angry,  I  dare  say ;  but  he  '11  help 
you,  won't  he  ?  He  always  does,  Fan  says." 

"  That 's  the  worst  of  it,  you  see.  He 's  paid  up  so 
often,  that  the  last  time  he  said  his  patience  could  n't 
stand  it,  nor  his  pocket  either,  and  if  I  got  into  any 
more  scrapes  of  that  sort,  I  must  get  out  as  I  could. 
I  meant  to  be  as  steady  as  Bunker  Hill  Monument ; 
but  here  I  am  again,  worse  than  ever,  for  last  quarter 
I  did  n't  say  anything  to  father,  he  was  so  bothered 
by  the  loss  of  those  ships  just  then,  so  things  have 
mounted  up  confoundedly." 

"  What  have  you  done  with  all  your  money?  " 

"  Hanged  if  I  know." 

"  Can't  you  pay  it  any  way  ?  " 

"  Don't  see  how,  as  I  have  n't  a  cent  of  my  own, 
and  no  way  of  getting  it,  unless  I  try  gambling." 

"  Oh,  mercy,  no !  Sell  your  horse,"  cried  Polly, 
after  a  minute  of  deep  meditation. 

"  I  have  ;  but  he  did  n't  bring  half  I  gave  for  him. 
I  lamed  him  last  winter,  and  the  beggar  won't  get 
over  it." 

"  And  that  did  n't  pay  up  the  debts  ?  " 

"  Only  about  a  half  of  'em." 

"  Why,  Tom,  how  much  do  you  owe  ?  " 

"  I  have  dodged  figuring  it  up  till  yesterday ;  then 


Breakers  Ahead.  297 

things  were  so  desperate,  I  thought  I  might  as  well 
face  the  truth,  so  I  overhauled  my  accounts,  and 
there 's  the  result." 

Tom  threw  a  blotted,  crumpled  paper  into  Polly's 
lap,  and  tramped  up  and  down  again,  faster  than  ever. 
Polly  took  one  look  at  the  total,  and  clasped  her  hands, 
for  to  her  inexperienced  eyes  it  looked  appalling. 

"Tidy  little  sum,  is  n't  it?"  asked  Tom,  who 
could  n't  bear  the  silence,  or  the  startled,  grieved  look 
in  Polly's  eyes. 

"It's  awful!  I  don't  wonder  you  dread  telling 
your  father." 

"I'd  rather  be  shot.  I  say,  Polly,  suppose  we 
break  it  to  him  easy ! "  added  Tom,  after  another 
turn. 

"  How  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Why,  suppose  Fan,  or,  better  still,  you  go  and 
sort  of  pave  the  way.  I  can't  bear  to  come  down  on 
him  with  the  whole  truth  at  once." 

"  So  you  'd  like  to  have  me  go  and  tell  him  for  you  ?  " 
Polly's  lip  curled  a  little  as  she  said  that,  and  she 
gave  Tom  a  look  that  would  have  shown  him  how  blue 
eyes  can  flash,  if  he  had  seen  it.  But  he  was  at  the 
window,  and  did  n't  turn,  as  he  said  slowly,  — 

"  Well,  you  see,  he 's  so  fond  of  you ;  we  all  confide 
in  you  ;  and  you  are  so  like  one  of  the  family,  that  it 
seems  quite  natural.  Just  tell  him  I  'm  expelled,  you 
know,  and  as  much  more  as  you  like ;  then  I  '11  come 
in,  and  we  '11  have  it  out." 

Polly  rose  and  went  to  the  door  without  a  rrord. 
In  doing  so,  Tom  caught  a  glimpse  of  her  face,  and 
said,  hastily,  — 


298  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

"  Don't  you  think  it  would  be  a  good  plan?  " 

"  No,  I  don't." 

"  Why  not?  Don't  you  think  he  'd  rather  have  it 
told  him  nicely  by  you,  than  blurted  out  as  I  always 
do  blurt  things?" 

"  I  know  he  'd  rather  have  his  son  go  to  him  and 
tell  the  truth,  like  a  man,  instead  of  sending  a  girl 
to  do  what  he  is  afraid  to  do  himself." 

If  Polly  had  suddenly  boxed  his  ears,  Tom  could  n't 
have  looked  more  taken  aback  than  by  that  burst.  He 
looked  at  her  excited  face,  seemed  to  understand  the 
meaning  of  it,  and  remembered  all  at  once  that  he  was 
trying  to  hide  behind  a  girl.  He  turned  scarlet,  said 
shortly,  "  Come  back,  Polly,"  and  walked  straight  out 
of  the  room,  looking  as  if  going  to  instant  execution, 
for  poor  Tom  had  been  taught  to  fear  his  father,  and 
had  not  entirely  outgrown  the  dread. 

Polly  sat  down,  looking  both  satisfied  and  troubled. 
"  I  hope  I  did  right,"  she  said  to  herself.  "  I  could  n't 
bear  to  have  him  shirk  and  seem  cowardly.  He  is  n't, 
only  he  did  n't  think  how  it  seemed  to  me,  and  I  don't 
wonder  he  was  a  little  afraid,  Mr.  Shaw  is  so  severe 
with  the  poor  fellow.  Oh,  dear,  what  should  we  do  if 
Will  got  into  such  scrapes.  Thank  goodness,  he 's 
poor,  and  can't ;  I  'm  so  glad  of  that ! " 

Then  she  sat  silent  beside  the  half-open  door,  hear 
ing  the  murmur  of  Tom's  voice  across  the  hall,  and 
hoping,  with  all  her  heart,  that  he  would  n't  have  a 
very  hard  time.  He  seemed  to  tell  his  story  rapidly 
and  steadily,  without  interruption,  to  the  end ;  then 
Polly  heard  Mr.  Shaw's  deeper  voice  say  a  few 
words,  at  which  Tom  uttered  a  loud  exclamation,  as 


Breakers  Ahead.  299 

if  taken  by  surprise.  Polly  couldn't  distinguish  a 
word,  so  she  kept  her  seat,  wondering  anxiously  what 
was  going  on  between  the  two  men.  A  sudden  pause 
seemed  to  follow  Tom's  ejaculation,  then  Mr.  Shaw 
talked  a  long  time  in  a  low,  earnest  tone,  so  different 
from  the  angry  one  Polly  had  expected  to  hear,  that 
it  made  her  nervous,  for  Mr.  Shaw  usually  "  blew 
Tom  up  first,  and  forgave  him  afterward,"  as  Maud 
said.  Presently  Tom's  voice  was  heard,  apparently 
asking  eager  questions,  to  which  brief  replies  were 
given.  Then  a  dead  silence  fell  upon  the  room,  and 
nothing  was  heard  but  the  spring  rain  softly  falling 
out  of  doors.  All  of  a  sudden  she  heard  a  move 
ment,  and  Tom's  voice  say  audibly,  — 

"  Let  me  bring  Polly;"  and  he  appeared,  looking  so 
pale  and  miserable  that  Polly  was  frightened. 

"  Go  and  say  something  to  him  ;  I  can't ;  poor  old 
father,  if  I  'd  only  .known,"  and  to  Polly's  utter 
dismay,  Tom  threw  himself  into  a  chair,  and  laid  his 
head  down  on  the  table,  as  if  he  had  got  a  blow  that 
was  too  much  for  him. 

"Oh,  Tom,  what  is  it  ?  "  cried  Polly,  hurrying  to  him, 
full  of  fears  she  dared  not  speak. 

Without  looking  up,  Tom  answered,  in  a  smothered 
voice, 

"  Failed  ;  all  gone  to  smash  ;  and  to-morrow  every 
one  will  know  it." 

Polly  held  on  to  the  back  of  Tom's  chair  for  a 
minute,  for  the  news  took  her  breath  away,  and  she 
felt  as  if  the  world  was  coming  to  an  end,  "  failed  " 
was  such  a  vaguely  dreadful  word  to  her. 

"  Is  it  very  bad?"  she  asked,  softly,  feeling  as  if 


300  An   O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

anything  was  better  than  to  stand  still  and  see  Tom 
so  wretched. 

"  Yes  ;  he  means  to  give  up  everything.  He 's 
done  his  best ;  but  it  can't  be  staved  off  any  longer, 
and  it 's  all  up  with  him." 

"  Oh,  I  wish  I  had  a  million  to  give  him ! "  cried 
Polly,  clasping  her  hands,  with  the  tears  running 
down  her  cheeks.  "  How  does  he  bear  it,  Tom?" 

"  Like  a  man,  Polly ;  and  I  'm  proud  of  him,"  said 
Tom,  looking  up,  all  red  and  excited  with  the  emo 
tions  he  was  trying  to  keep  under.  "  Everything  has 
been  against  him,  and  he  has  fought  all  alone  to 
stand  the  pressure,  but  it 's  too  much  for  him,  and 
he's  given  in.  It's  an  honorable  failure,  mind  you, 
and  no  one  can  say  a  word  against  him.  I  'd  like  to 
see  'em  try  it !  "  and  Tom  clenched  his  hands,  as  if  it 
would  be  an  immense  relief  to  him  to  thrash  half  a 
dozen  aspersers  of  his  father's  honest  name. 

"  Of  course  they  can't !  This  is  what  poor  Maud 
was  troubled  about.  He  had  told  your  mother  and 
Fan  before  you  came,  and  that  is  why  they  are  so  un 
happy,  I  suppose." 

"They  are  safe  enough.  Father  hasn't  touched 
mother's  money ;  he  '  could  n't  rob  his  girls,'  he  said, 
and  that's  all  safe  for  'em.  Is  n't  he  a  trump,  Polly  ?  " 
And  Tom's  face  shone  with  pride,  even  while  his  lips 
would  twitch  with  a  tenderer  feeling. 

"  If  I  could  only  do  anything  to  help,"  cried  Polly, 
oppressed  with  her  own  powerlessness. 

44  You  can.  Go  and  be  good  to  him ;  you  know 
how ;  he  needs  it  enough,  all  alone  there.  I  can't  do 
it,  for  I  'in  only  a  curse  instead  of  a  comfort  to  him." 


Breakers  Ahead.  301 

"  How  did  he  take  your  news?  "  asked  Polly,  who, 
for  a  time,  had  forgotten  the  lesser  trouble  in  the 
greater. 

"  Like  a  lamb  ;  for  when  I  'd  done,  he  only  said, 
*  My  poor  lad,  we  must  bear  with  one  another/  and 
then  told  his  story." 

"  I  'm  glad  he  was  kind,"  began  Polly,  in  a  sooth 
ing  tone  ;  but  Tom  cried  out,  remorsefully,  — 

"  That 's  what  knocks  me  over  !  Just  when  I  ought 
to  be  a  pride  and  a  prop  to  him,  I  bring  him  my  debts 
and  disgrace,  and  he  never  says  a  word  of  blame. 
It 's  no  use,  I  can't  stand  it !  "  and  Tom's  head  went 
down  again  with  something  very  like  a  sob,  that 
would  come  in  spite  of  manful  efforts  to  keep  it  back, 
for  the  poor  fellow  had  the  warmest  heart  that  ever 
was,  and  all  the  fine  waistcoats  outside  could  n't 
spoil  it. 

That  sound  gave  Polly  more  pain  than  the  news  of 
a  dozen  failures  and  expulsions,  and  it  was  as  impos 
sible  for  her  to  resist  putting  her  hand  tenderly  on  the 
bent  head,  as  it  was  for  her  to  help  noticing  with  pleas 
ure  how  brown  the  little  curls  were  growing,  and  how 
soft  they  were.  In  spite  of  her  sorrow,  she  enjoyed 
that  minute  very  much,  for  she  was  a  born  consoler* 
and,  it  is  hardly  necessary  for  me  to  add,  loved  this 
reprehensible  Tom  with  all  her  heart.  It  was  a  very 
foolish  thing  for  her  to  do,  she  quite  agreed  to  that ; 
she  could  n't  understand  it,  explain  it,  or  help  it ;  she 
only  felt  that  she  did  care  for  him  very  much,  in  spite 
of  his  faults,  his  indifference,  and  his  engagement. 
You  see,  she  learned  to  love  him  one  summer,  when 
he  made  them  a  visit.  That  was  before  Trix  caught 


302  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

him ;  and  when  she  heard  that  piece  of  news,  Polly 
could  n't  unlove  him  all  at  once,  though  she  tried  very 
hard,  as  was  her  duty.  That  engagement  was  such  a 
farce,  that  she  never  had  much  faith  in  it,  so  she  put 
her  love  away  in  a  corner  of  her  heart,  and  tried  to 
forget  it,  hoping  it  would  either  die,  or  have  a  right 
to  live.  It  did  n't  make  her  very  miserable,  because 
patience,  work,  and  common-sense  lent  her  a  hand, 
and  hope  would  keep  popping  up  its  bright  face  from 
the  bottom  of  her  Pandora-box  of  troubles.  Now  and 
then,  when  any  one  said  Trix  would  n't  jilt  Tom,  or 
that  Tom  did  care  for  Trix  more  than  he  should,  Polly 
had  a  pang,  and  thought  she  could  n't  possibly  bear 
it.  But  she  always  found  she  could,  and  so  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  it  was  a  merciful  provision  of 
nature  that  girls'  hearts  could  stand  so  much,  and 
their  appetites  continue  good,  when  unrequited  love 
was  starving. 

Now,  she  could  not  help  yearning  over  this  faulty, 
well-beloved  scapegrace  Tom,  or  help  thinking,  with 
a  little  thrill  of  hope,  "  If  Trix  only  cared  for  his 
money,  she  may  cast  him  off  now  he 's  lost  it ;  but 
I  '11  love  him  all  the  better  because  he 's  poor."  With 
this  feeling  warm  at  her  heart,  I  don't  wonder  that 
Polly's  hand  had  a  soothing  effect,  and  that  after  a 
heave  or  two,  Toin's>  shoulders  were  quiet,  and  certain 
smothered  sniflfe  suggested  that  he  would  be  all  right 
-again,  if  he  could  only  wipe  his  eyes  without  any  one's 
seeing  him  do  it. 

Polly  seemed  to  divine  his  wish,  and  tucking  a  little, 
clean  handkerchief  into  one  of  his  half-open  hands,  she 
said,  "  I  'in  going  to  your  father,  now,"  and  with  a 


Breakers  Ahead.  303 

farewell  smooth,  so  comforting  that  Tom  wished  she  'd 
do  it  again,  she  went  away. 

As  she  paused  a  minute  in  the  hall  to  steady  herself, 
Maud  called  her  from  above,  and  thinking  that  the 
women  might  need  her  more  than  the  men,  she  ran  up 
to  find  Fann}^  waiting  for  her  in  her  own  room. 

"  Mamma 's  asleep,  quite  worn  out,  poor  dear,  so  we 
can  talk  in  here  without  troubling  her,"  said  Fanny, 
receiving  her  friend  so  quietly,  that  Polly  was  amazed. 

"  Let  me  come,  too,  I  won't  make  any  fuss  ;  it 's  so 
dreadful  to  be  shut  out  everywhere,  and  have  people 
crying  and  talking,  and  locked  up,  and  I  not  know 
what  it  means,"  said  Maud,  beseechingly. 

"  You  do  know,  now ;  I  've  told  her,  Polly,"  said 
Fan,  as  they  sat  down  together,  and  Maud  perched 
herself  on  the  bed,  so  that  she  might  retire  among  the 
pillows  if  her  feelings  were  too  much  for  her. 

"  1  'in  glad  you  take  it  so  well,  dear ;  I  was  afraid 
it  might  upset  you,"  said  Polly,  seeing  now  that  in 
spite  of  her  quiet  manner,  Fan's  eyes  had  an  excited 
look,  and  her  cheeks  a  feverish  color. 

"  I  shall  groan  and  moan  by  and  by,  I  dare  say,  but 
at  first  it  sort  of  dazed  me,  and  now  it  begins  to  ex 
cite  me.  I  ought  to  be  full  of  sorrow  for  poor  papa, 
and  I  am  truly  sorry,  but,  wicked  as  it  may  seem, 
it's  a  fact,  Polly,  that  I  'm  half  glad  it 's  happened,  for 
it  takes  me  out  of  myself,  and  gives  me  something 
to  do." 

Fanny's  eyes  fell  and  her  color  rose  as  she  spoke, 
but  Polly  understood  why  she  wanted  to  forget  her 
self,  and  put  her  arm  round  her  with  a  more  tender 
sympathy  than  Fanny  guessed. 


304  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

"  Perhaps  things  are  not  as  bad  as  they  seem ;  I 
don't  know  much  about  such  matters,  but  I  've  seen 
people  who  have  failed,  and  they  seemed  just  as  com 
fortable  as  before,"  said  Polly. 

"  Jt  won't  be  so  with  us,  for  papa  means  to  give  up 
everything,  and  not  have  a  word  said  against  him. 
Mamma's  little  property  is  settled  upon  her,  and  has 
n't  been  risked.  That  touched  her  so  much!  She 
dreads  poverty  even  more  than  I  do,  but  she  begged 
him  to  take  it  if  it  would  help  him.  That  pleased 
him,  but  he  said  nothing  would  induce  him  to  do  it, 
for  it  would  n't  help  much,  and  was  hardly  enough  to 
keep  her  comfortable." 

"  Do  you  know  what  he  means  to  do? "  asked  Polly, 
anxiously. 

"  He  said  his  plans  were  not  made,  but  he  meant  to 
go  into  the  little  house  that  belonged  to  grandma,  as 
soon  as  he  could,  for  it  was  n't  honest  for  a  bankrupt 
to  keep  up  an  establishment  like  this." 

"  I  shan't  mind  that  at  all,  I  like  the  little  house 
cause  it 's  got  a  garden,  and  there 's  a  cunning  room 
with  a  three-cornered  closet  in  it  that  I  always  wanted. 
ff  that 's  all,  /  don't  think  bankrupting  is  so  very 
Dad,"  said  Maud,  taking  a  cheerful  view  of  things. 

"  Ah,  just  wait  till  the  carriage  goes  and  the  nice 
clothes  and  the  servants,  and  we  have  to  scratch 
along  as  we  can.  You'll  change  your  mind  then, 
poor  child,"  said  Fanny,  whose  ideas  of  failure  were 
decidedly  tragical. 

"  Will  they  take  all  my  things  away?  "  cried  Maud, 
In  dismay. 

"  I  dare  say ;  I  don't  know  what  we  are  allowed  to 


Breakers  Ahead.  305 

• 

keep ;  but  not  much,  I  fancy,"  and  Fan  looked  as  if 
strung  up  to  sacrifice  everything  she  possessed. 

"They  shan't  have  my  new  ear-rings,  —  I'll  hide 
'em,  —  and  my  best  dress,  and  my  gold  smelling- 
bottle.  Oh,  oh,  oh !  I  think  it 's  mean  to  take  a  little 
girl's  things  away ! "  And  Maud  dived  among  the  pil 
lows  to  smother  a  wail  of  anguish  at  the  prospect  of 
being  bereft  of  her  treasures. 

Polly  soon  lured  her  out  again,  by  assurances  that 
she  wouldn't  be  utterly  despoiled,  and  promises  to 
try  and  soften  the  hard  hearts  of  her  father's  creditors, 
if  the  ear-rings  and  the  smelling-bottle  were  attached. 

"  I  wonder  if  we  shall  be  able  to  keep  one  servant, 
just  till  we  learn  how  to  do  the  work,"  said  Fanny, 
looking  at  her  white  hands,  with  a  sigh. 

But  Maud  clapped  hers,  and  gave  a  joyful  bounce, 
as  she  cried,  — 

"  Now  I  can  learn  to  cook !  I  love  so  to  beat  eggs ! 
I  '11  have  an  apron,  with  a  bib  to  it,  like  Polly's,  and 
a  feather  duster,  and  sweep  the  stairs,  maybe,  with 
my  head  tied  up,  like  Katy.  Oh,  what  fun !  " 

"  Don't  laugh  at  her,  or  discourage  her ;  let  her  find 
comfort  in  bibs  and  dust-pans,  if  she  can,"  whispered 
Polly  to  Fan,  while  Maud  took  a  joyful  "  header " 
among  the  pillows,  and  came  up  smiling  and  blowsy, 
for  she  loved  house-work,  and  often  got  lectured  for 
stolen  visits  to  the  kitchen,  and  surreptitious  sweep 
ings  and  dustings  when  the  coast  was  clear. 

"  Mamma  is  so  feeble,  I  shall  have  to  keep  house,  I 
suppose,  and  you  must  show  me  hOw,  Polly,"  said  Fan. 

"Good  practice,  ma'am,  as  you'll  find  out  some 
day,"  answered  Polly,  laughing  significantly. 


306  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

• 

Fanny  smiled,  then  grew  both  grave  and  sad.  "  Thia 
changes  everything ;  the  old  set  will  drop  me,  as  we 
did  the  Mortons  when  their  father  failed,  and  my 
;  prospects/  as  we  say,  are  quite  ruined." 

"  I  don't  believe  it ;  your  real  friends  won't  drop 
you,  and  you  '11  find  out  which  the  true  ones  are  now. 
I  know  one  friend  who  will  be  kinder  than  ever." 

"Oh,  Polly,  do  you  think  so?"  and  Fanny's  eyes 
softened  with  sudden  tears. 

"  I  know  who  she  means,"  cried  Maud,  always 
eager  to  find  out  things.  ult's  herself;  Polly 
won't  mind  if  we  are  poor,  'cause  she  likes  beg 
gars." 

"  Is  that  who  you  meant?  "  asked  Fan,  wistfully. 

"No,  it's  a  much  better  and  dearer  friend  than  I 
am,"  said  Polly,  pinching  Fanny's  cheek,  as  it  reddened 
prettily  under  her  eyes.  "  You  '11  never  guess,  Maud, 
so  I  would  n't  try,  but  be  planning  what  you  will  put 
in  your  cunning,  three-cornered  closet,  when  you 
get  it." 

Having  got  rid  of  "  Miss  Paulina  Pry,"  as  Tom 
called  Maud,  who  was  immediately  absorbed  by  her 
cupboard,  the  older  girls  soberly  discussed  the  sudden 
change  which  had  come,  and  Polly  was  surprised  to 
see  what  unexpected  strength  and  sense  Fanny  showed. 
Polly  was  too  unconscious  of  the  change  which  love 
had  made  in  herself  to  understand  at  first  the  cause 
of  her  friend's  new  patience  and  fortitude ;  but  she 
rejoiced  over  it,  and  felt  that  her  prophecy  would 
yet  be  fulfilled.  •  Presently  Maud  emerged  from 
her  new  closet,  bringing  a  somewhat  startling  idea 
with  her. 


Breakers  Ahead.  307 

%<  Do  bankrupting  men,"  (Maud  liked  that  new 
word)  "  always  have  fits  ?  " 

"  Mercy,  no !  What  .put  that  into  your  head, 
child?  "cried  Polly. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Merton  did  ;  and  I  was  thinking  per 
haps  papa  had  got  one  down  there,  and  it  kind  of 
frightened  me." 

"  Mr.  Merton's  was  a  bad,  disgraceful  failure,  and 
I  don't  wonder  he  had  a  fit.  Ours  is  n't,  and  papa 
won't  do  anything  of  that  sort,  you  may  be  sure," 
said  Fanny,  with  as  proud  an  air  as  if  "  our  failure  " 
was  rather  an  honor  than  otherwise. 

"  Don't  you  think  you  and  Maud  had  better  go 
down  and  see  him  ?  "  asked  Polly. 

"  Perhaps  he  would  n't  like  it ;  and  I  don't  know 
what  to  say,  either,"  began  Fan ;  but  Polly  said, 
eagerly,— 

"  I  know  he  would  like  it.  Never  mind  what  you 
say ;  just  go,  and  show  him  that  you  don't  doubt  or 
blame  him  for  this,  but  love  him  all  the  more,  and  are 
ready  and  glad  to  help  him  bear  the  trouble." 

"  I  'm  going,  I  ain't  afraid  ;  I  '11  just  hug  him,  and 
say  I'm  ever  so  glad  we  are  going  to  the  little 
house,"  cried  Maud,  scrambling  off  the  bed,  and  run 
ning  down  starrs. 

"  Come  with  me,  Polly,  and  tell  me  what  to  do," 
said  Fanny,  drawing  her  friend  after  her. 

44  You  '11  know  what  to  do  when  you  see  him,  better 
than  I  can  tell  you,"  answered  Polly,  readily  yielding, 
for  she  knew  they  considered  her  4  quite  one  of  the 
family,'  as  Tom  said. 

At  the  study  door  they  found  Maud,  whose  courage 


308  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

had  given  out,  for  Mr.  Merton's  fit  rather  haunted 
her.  Polly  opened  the  door  ;  and  the  minute  Fanny 
saw  her  father,  she  did  know  what  to  do.  The  fire 
was  low,  the  gas  dim,  and  Mr.  Shaw  was  sitting  in 
his  easy-chair,  his  gray  head  in  both  his  hands,  look 
ing  lonely,  old,  and  bowed  down  with  care.  Fanny 
gave  Polly  one  look,  then  went  and  took  the  gray 
head  in  both  her  arms,  saying,  with  a  tender  quiver 
in  her  voice,  — 

"  Father  dear,  we  've  come  to  help  you  bear  it." 

Mr.  Shaw  looked  up,  and  seeing  in  his  daughter's 
face  something  that  never  had  been  there  before,  put 
his  arm  about  her,  and  leaned  his  tired  head  against 
her,  as  if,  when  least  expected,  he  had  found  the  con 
solation  he  most  needed.  In  that  minute,  Fanny  felt, 
with  mingled  joy  and  self-reproach,  what  a  daughter 
might  be  to  her  father ;  and  Polly,  thinking  of  feeble, 
selfish  Mrs.  Shaw,  asleep  up-stairs,  saw  with  sudden 
clearness  what  a  wife  should  be  to  her  husband,  —  a 
helpmeet,  not  a  burden.  Touched  by  these  unusual 
demonstrations,  Maud  crept  quietly  to  her  father's 
knee,  and  whispered,  with  a  great  tear  shining  on  her 
little  pug  nose,  — 

"  Papa,  we  don't  mind  it  much,  and  I  'm  going  to 
help  Fan  keep  house  for  you;  I'd  like  to  do  it, 
truly." 

Mr.  Shaw's  other  arm  went  round  the  child,  and 
for  a  minute  no  one  said  anything,  for  Polly  had 
slipped  behind  his  chair,  that  nothing  should  disturb 
the  three,  who  were  learning  from  misfortune  how 
much  they  loved  one  another.  Presently  Mr.  Shaw 
steadied  himself  and  asked,  — 


Breakers  Ahead.  309 

**  Where  is  my  other  daughter,  where 's  my  Polly  ?  " 

She  was  there  at  once ;  gave  him  one  of  the  quiet 
kisses  that  had  more  than  usual  tenderness  in  it,  for 
she  loved  to  hear  him  say  "  my  other  daughter,"  and 
then  she  whispered, — 

*'  Don't  you  want  Tom,  too  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  do ;  where  is  the  poor  fellow  ?  " 

"I'll  bring  him;"  and  Polly  departed  with  most 
obliging  alacrity. 

But  in  the  hall  she  paused  a  minute  to  peep  into 
the  glass  and  see  if  she  was  all  right,  for  somehow  she 
was  more  anxious  to  look  neat  and  pretty  to  Tom  in 
his  hour  of  trouble,  than  she  had  ever  been  in  his 
prosperous  days.  In  lifting  her  arms  to  perk  up  the 
bow  at  her  throat,  she  knocked  a  hat  off  the  bracket. 
Now,  a  shiny  black  beaver  is  not  an  object  exactly 
calculated  to  inspire  tender  or  romantic  sentiments, 
one  would  fancy,  but  that  particular  u  stove  pipe " 
seemed  to  touch  Polly  to  the  heart,  for  she  caught  it 
up,  as  if  its  fall  suggested  a  greater  one,  smoothed 
out  a  slight  dint,  as  if  it  was  symbolical  of  the  hard 
knocks  its  owner's  head  was  now  in  danger  of  receiv 
ing,  and  stood  looking  at  it  with  as  much  pity  and 
respect,  as  if  it  had  been  the  crown  of  a  disinherited 
prince.  Girls  will  do  such  foolish  little  things,  and 
though  we  laugh  at  them,  I  think  we  like  them  the 
better  for  it,  after  all. 

Richard  was  himself  again  when  Polly  entered,  for 
the  handkerchief  had  disappeared,  his  head  was  erect, 
his  face  was  steady,  and  his  whole  air  had  a  dogged 
composure  which  seemed  to  say  to  fate,  "  Hit  away, 
I  'm  ready."  He  did  not  hear  Polly  come  in,  for 


3io  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

he  was  looking  fixedly  at  the  fire  with  eyes  that 
evidently  saw  a  very  different  future  there  from  that 
which  it  used  to  show  him ;  but  when  she  said, 
"  Tom,  dear,  3'our  father  wants  you,"  he  got  up  at 
once,  held  out  his  hand  to  her,  saying,  "  Come  too ; 
we  can't  get  on  without  you,"  and  took  her  back  into 
the  study  with  him. 

Then  they  had  a  long  talk,  for  the  family  troubles 
seemed  to  warm  and  strengthen  the  family  affection 
and  confidence,  and  as  the  3roung  people  listened 
while  Mr.  Shaw  told  them  as  much  of  his  business 
perplexities  as  they  could  understand,  every  one  of 
them  blamed  him  or  herself  for  going  on  so  gayly  and 
blindly,  while  the  storm  was  gathering,  and  the  poor 
man  was  left  to  meet  it  all  alone.  Now,  however,  the 
thunder-clap  had  come,  and  after  the  first  alarm,  find 
ing  they  were  not  killed,  they  began  to  discover  a 
certain  half-anxious,  half-pleasant  excitement  in  talk 
ing  it  over,  encouraging  one  another,  and  feeling 
unusually  friendly,  as  people  do  when  a  sudden  shower 
drives  two  or  three  to  the  shelter  of  one  umbrella. 

It  was  a  sober  talk,  but  not  all  sad,  for  Mr  Shaw 
felt  inexpressibly  comforted  by  his  children's  unex 
pected  sympathy,  and  they,  trying  to  take  the  down 
fall  cheerfully  for  his  sake,  found  it  easier  to  bear 
themselves,  They  even  laughed  occasionally,  for  the 
girls,  in  their  ignorance,  asked  queer  questions  ;  Tom 
made  ludicrously  unbusiness-like  propositions ;  and 
Maud  gave  them  one  hearty  peal,  that  did  a  world  of 
good,  by  pensively  remarking,  when  the  plans  for  the 
future  had  been  explained  to  her,  — 

44 1  'm  so  relieved  ;  for  when  papa  said  we  must  give 


Breakers  Ahead.  311 

up  everything,  and  mamma  called  us  all  beggars,  I 
did  think  I  'd  got  to  go  round  asking  for  cold  vittles, 
with  a  big  basket,  and  an  old  shawl  over  my  head.  I 
said  once  I  *d  like  that,  but  I  *m  afraid  I  should  n't,  for 
I  can't  bear  Indian  cake  and  cold  potatoes,  —  that's 
what  the  poor  children  always  seem  to  get,  —  and  I 
should  hate  to  have  Grace  and  the  rest  see  me  scuffing 
round  the  back  gates." 

"  My  little  girl  shall  never  come  to  that,  if  I  can 
help  it,"  said  Mr.  Shaw,  holding  her  close,  with  a  look 
that  made  Maud  add,  as  she  laid  her  cheek  against 
his  own,  — 

"  But  I  'd  do  it,  father,  if  you  asked  me  to,  for  1 
truly  want  to  help." 

"  So  do  I ! "  cried  Fanny,  wondering  at  the  same 
minute  how  it  would  seem  to  wear  turned  silks,  and 
clean  her  gloves. 

Tom  said  nothing,  but  drew  toward  him  a  paper  of 
figures  which  his  father  had  drawn  up,  and  speedily 
reduced  himself  to  the  verge  of  distraction  by  trying 
to  understand  them,  in  his  ardent  desire  to  prove  his 
willingness  to  put  his  shoulder  to  the  wheel. 

"  We  shall  pull  through,  children,  so  don't  borrow 
trouble,  only  be  ready  for  discomforts  and  annoyances. 
Put  your  pride  in  your  pockets,  and  remember  poverty 
is  n't  disgraceful,  but  dishonesty  is." 

Polly  had  always  loved  kind  Mr.  Shaw,  but  now 
she  respected  him  heartily,  and  felt  that  she  had  not 
done  him  justice  when  she  sometimes  thought  that  he 
only  cared  for  making  money. 

"  I  should  n't  wonder  if  this  was  a  good  thing  for 
the  whole  family,  though  it  don't  look  so.  Mrs.  Shaw 


312  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

will  take  it  the  hardest,  but  it  may  stir  her  up,  so  she 
will  forget  her  nerves,  and  be  as  busy  and  happy  as 
mother  is,"  said  Polly  to  herself,  in  a  hopeful  mood, 
for  poverty  was  an  old  friend,  and  she  had  learned 
long  ago  not  to  fear  it,  but  to  take  its  bitter  and  its 
sweet,  and  make  the  best  of  both. 

When  they  parted  for  the  night,  Polly  slipped  away 
first,  to  leave  them  free,  yet  could  n't  help  lingering 
outside  to  see  how  tenderly  the  girls  parted  from  their 
father.  Tom  had  n't  a  word  to  say  for  himself,  for 
men  don't  kiss,  caress,  or  cry  when  they  feel  most, 
and  all  he  could  do  to  express  his  sympathy  and  pen 
itence,  was  to  wring  his  father's  hand  with  a  face  full 
of  respect,  regret,  and  affection,  and  then  bolt  up 
stairs  as  if  the  furies  were  after  him,  as  they  were,  in 
a  mild  and  modern  form. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 
A  DRESS  PARADE. 

THE  weeks  that  followed  taught  the  onaws,  as 
many  other  families  have  been  taught,  how  rapidly 
riches  take  to  themselves  wings  and  fly  away,  when 
they  once  begin  to  go.  Mr.  Shaw  carried  out  his 
plans  with  an  energy  and  patience  that  worked  won 
ders,  and  touched  the  hearts  of  his  hardest  creditors. 
The  big  house  was  given  up  as  soon  as  possible,  and 
the  little  house  taken ;  being  made  comfortable  with 
the  furniture  Madam  left  there,  when  she  went  to  live 
with  her  son.  The  old-fashioned  things  had  been  let 
with  the  house,  and  now  seemed  almost  like  a  gift 
from  Grandma,  doubly  precious  in  these  troublous 
times.  At  the  auction,  several  persons  tried  to  show 
the  family,  that  though  they  had  lost  their  fortune, 
friends  still  remained,  for  one  bid  in  Fanny's  piano, 
and  sent  it  to  her ;  another  secured  certain  luxurious 
articles  for  Mrs.  Shaw's  comfort ;  and  a  third  saved 
such  of  Mr.  Shaw's  books  as  he  valued  most,  for  he 
had  kept  his  word  and  given  up  everything,  with  the 
most  punctilious  integrity.  So  the  little  house  was 
not  bare,  but  made  pleasant  to  their  eyes  by  these 
waifs  from  the  wreck,  brought  them  by  the  tide  of 
sympathy  and  good- will  which  soon  set  in. 


314  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

Everybody  who  knew  them  hastened  to  call,  many 
from  a  real  regard,  but  more  from  mere  curiosity  to 
"  see  how  they  took  it."  This  was  one  of  the  hardest 
things  they  had  to  bear,  and  Tom  used  strong  lan 
guage  more  than  once,  when  some  fine  lady  came  to 
condole,  and  went  away  to  gossip.  Polly's  hopes  of 
Mrs.  Shaw  were  disappointed,  for  misfortune  did  not 
have  a  bracing  effect.  She  took  to  her  bed  at  once, 
received  her  friends  in  tears  and  a  point-lace  cap,  and 
cheered  her  family  by  plaintively  inquiring  when  she 
was  to  be  taken  to  the  almshouse.  This  was  hard 
for  Fanny  ;  but  after  an  interval  of  despair,  she  came 
to  the  conclusion  that  under  the  circumstances  it  was 
the  best  thing  her  mother  could  have  done,  and  with 
something  of  her  father's  energy,  Fanny  shouldered 
the  new  burden,  feeling  that  at  last  necessity  had 
given  her  what  she  had  long  needed,  something  to  do. 

The  poor  girl  knew  as  much  of  household  affairs 
as  Snip  ;  but  pride,  and  the  resolution  "  to  stand  by 
father,"  kept  up  her  courage,  and  she  worked  away 
with  feverish  activity  at  whatever  task  came  first,  till, 
just  as  strength  and  heart  were  about  to  fail,  order 
began  to  emerge  from  chaos,  and  the  vision  of  a  home 
made  happy  and  comfortable  by  her  skill  and  care, 
came  to  repay  and  sustain  her. 

Maud,  being  relieved  from  the  fear  of  back-door  beg 
gary,  soon  became  reconciled  to  bankruptcy  ;  thought 
it  rather  a  good  joke,  on  the  whole,  for  children  like 
novelty,  and  don't  care  much  for  Mrs.  Grundy.  She 
regarded  the  new  abode  as  a  baby-house  on  a  large 
scale,  where  she  was  allowed  to  play  her  part  in  the 
most  satisfactory  manner.  From  the  moment  when. 


A  Dress  Parade.  *    315 

on  taking  possession  of  the  coveted  room,  she  opeued 
the  doors  of  the  three-cornered  closet,  and  found  a 
little  kettle,  just  like  Polly's,  standing  there,  she  felt 
that  a  good  time  was  coming  for  her,  and  fell  to  dust 
ing  furniture,  washing  cups,  and  making  toast,  the 
happiest,  fussiest  little  housewife  in  the  city.  For 
Maud  inherited  the  notable  gifts  of  her  grandmother, 
and  would  have  made  a  capital  farmer's  daughter,  in 
spite  of  her  city  breeding. 

Polly  came  and  went  through  all  these  changes, 
faithful,  helpful,  and  as  cheery  as  she  could  be,  when 
her  friends  were  in  trouble.  The  parts  seemed  re 
versed  now,  and  it  was  Polly  who  gave,  Fanny  who 
received ;  for  where  everything  seemed  strange  and 
new  to  Fan,  Polly  was  quite  at  home,  and  every  one 
of  the  unfashionable  domestic  accomplishments  •  now 
came  into  play,  to  the  comfort  of  the  Shaws,  and  the 
great  satisfaction  of  Polly.  She  could  not  do  enough 
to  prove  her  gratitude  for  former  favors,  and  went 
toiling  and  moiling  about,  feeling  that  the  hardest, 
most  disagreeable  tasks  were  her  especial  duty.  In 
the  moving  nothing  suited  her  better  than  to  trot  up 
and  down,  lugging  heavy  things  ;  to  pound  her  fin 
gers  black  and  blue,  nailing  carpets  and  curtains ; 
and  the  day  she  nearly  broke  her  neck,  tumbling 
down  the  cellar  stairs,  in  her  eagerness  to  see  that 
Utrs.  Shaw's  wine  was  rightly  stored,  she  felt  that  she 
was  only  paying  her  debts,  and  told  Tom  she  liked  it, 
when  he  picked  her  up,  looking  as  grimy  as  a  chim 
ney-sweep. 

"  You  can  turn  your  hand  to  anything,  you  clever 
girl,  so  do  come  and  give  me  some  advice,  for  I  am 


31 6  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

in  the  depths  of  despair,"  said  Fanny,  when  the 
"  maid-of-all-work,"  as  Polly  called  herself,  found  a 
leisure  hour. 

"What  is  it?  moths  in  the  furs,  a  smoky  chimne3f, 
or  small-pox  next  door  ?  "  asked  Polly,  as  they  entered 
Fan's  room,  where  Maud  was  trying  on  old  bonnets 
before  the  looking-glass. 

"  Actually  I  have  nothing  to  wear,"  began  Fan,  im 
pressively  ;  "  I  've  been  too  busy  to  think  or  care  till 
now,  but  here  it  is  nearly  May,  and  I  have  hardly  a 
decent  rag  to  my  back.  Usually,  you  know,  I  just  go 
to  Mrs.  O'Grady  and  tell  her  what  I  want ;  she  makes 
my  spring  wardrobe,  papa  pays  the  bill,  and  there  I 
am.  Now  I  Ve  looked  into  the  matter,  and  I  declare 
to  you,  Polty,  I  'm  frightened  to  see  how  much  it  costs 
to  dress  me." 

"  Not  so  much  as  some  girls  I  know,"  said  Polly, 
encouragingly. 

"  Perhaps  not,  for  I  have  a  conscience,  and  taste  is 
economy  sometimes  ;  but  really,  Polly,  I  have  n't  the 
heart  to  ask  papa  for  a  cent  just  now,  and  yet  I  must 
have  clothes.  You  are  such  a  genius  for  planning  and 
working  wonders,  that  I  throw  myself  upon  you,  and 
ask,  c  How  shall  I  make  a  spring  wardrobe  out  of 
nothing?'" 

"Let  me  see  the  '  nothing '  before  I  advise.  Bring 
out  every  rag  you  've  got,  and  we  '11  see  what  can  be 
done,"  said  Polly,  looking  as  if  she  enjoyed  the  pros 
pect,  for  she  had  a  great  deal  of  that  feminine  faculty 
which  we  call  "knack,"  and  much  practice  had  in 
creased  it. 

Fanny  brought  out  her  "  rags," -and  was  astonished 


A  Dress  Parade.  317 

to  see  how  many  she  had,  for  chair,  sofa,  bed,  and 
bureau  were  covered,  and  still  Maud,  who  was  burrow 
ing  in  the  closets,  kept  crying,  "  Here  's  another." 

44  There 's  a  discouraging  heap  of  rubbish  for  you  !  * 
said  Fan,  as  she  added  a  faded  muslin  to  the  last 
pile. 

44  Now,  to  me  your  4  rubbish '  looks  very  encourag 
ing,  because  there  is  good  material  there,  and  not  much 
worn-out  finery, —  that's  my  detestation,  for  you  can't 
do  anything  with  it.  Let  me  see,  five  bonnets.  Put 
the  winter  ones  awajr  till  autumn,  rip  up  the  summer 
ones,  and  out  of  three  old  ones  we  '11  get  a  pretty  new 
one,  if  my  eyes  don't  deceive  me." 

44 1  '11  rip,  and  then  do  let  me  see  you  make  a  bon 
net,  it  must  be  so  interesting,"  said  Maud,  whipping 
out  her  scissors,  and  eagerly  beginning  to  reduce  a 
shabby  little  bonnet  to  its  original  elements. 

44  Now  the  dresses,"  continued  Polly,  who  had  rap 
idly  sorted  out  the  piles. 

44  Will  you  have  the  goodness  to  look  at  this?"  said 
Fan,  holding  up  a  gray  street  suit,  faded  past  cure. 

Polly  whisked  it  wrong  side  out,  and  showing  the 
clean,  bright  fabric,  said,  with  a  triumphant  wave,  — 

44  Behold  your  new  suit ;  fresh  trimming  and  less  of 
it  will  finish  you  off  as  smart  as  ever." 

44 1  never  wore  a  turned  dress  in  my  life ;  do  you 
suppose  people  will  know  it?"  said  Fan,  doubtfully. 

44  What  if  they  do,  it  won't  hurt  you.  Not  one  in  a 
hundred  will  ever  think  anything  about  your  dress, 
except  that  it  is  pretty.  I  've  worn  turned  and  dyed 
gowns  all  my  days,  and  it  don't  seem  to  have  alienated 
my  friends,  or  injured  my  constitution." 


318  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

"That  it  hasn't;  I'm  a  goose,  Polly,  and  I'll  get 
over  the  feeling  that  it's  sort  of  disgraceful  to  be  poor 
and  have  to  economize.  We  '11  turn  the  gray,  and  I  '11 
wear  it  bravely." 

"  Then  it  will  be  more  becoming  than  ever.  Oh, 
here 's  the  pretty  violet  silk  ;  that  will  make  a  lovely 
suit,"  cried  Polly,  going  on  with  the  review. 

"  Don't  see  how  two  draggled  skirts  and  a  stained 
waist  can  be  transformed  into  a  whole  rig,"  said  Fan, 
sitting  on  the  bed,  with  her  garments  strewn  about 
her  in  various  attitudes  of  limp  despondency. 

"  Well,  ma'am,  my  plan  is  this,"  began  Polly,  imi 
tating  Mrs.  O'Grady's  important  tone,  and  bad  gram 
mar  :  "  Gores  is  out,  and  plaits  is  in  ;  therefore,  as  the 
top  of  this  skirt  is  quite  fresh,  we  will  take  off  the 
ruffles,  turn  it  upside  down,  and  leave  it  plain.  The 
upper  skirt  will  be  made  scanter,  and  finished  with  a 
frill ;  then  the  waist  can  be  refreshed  with  the  best 
parts  of  these  wide  flounces,  and  out  of  those  new  bits 
we  will  concoct  a  hat.  The  black  lace  Maud  has  just 
taken  off  the  green  one  will  do  to  edge  the  violet,  and 
with  your  nice  silk  mantilla  you  are  complete,  don't 
you  see?" 

"  I  don't  quite  see  it  yet,  but  I  have  firm  faith  that 
I  shall  in  time,  and  consider  my  calling  costume  fin 
ished,"  said  Fanny,  getting  more  and  more  interested 
as  she  saw  her  condemned  wardrobe  coming  out  fresh 
again  under  Polly's  magic  knack. 

"  There  are  two  ;  then  that  pique  is  all  right,  if  you 
cut  the  tail  off  the  jacket,  and  change  the  trimming  a 
bit.  The  muslins  only  need  mending  and  doing  up 
to  look  as  well  as  ever ;  you  ought  not  to  put  them 


A  Dress  Parade.  319 

away  torn  and  soiled,  my  child.  The  two  black  silks 
will  be  good  stand-bys  for  years.  If  I  were  }7ou,  I  'd 
have  a  couple  of  neat,  pretty  prints  for  home-wear, 
and  then  I  don't  see  why  you  are  n't  fixed  well  enough 
for  our  short  season." 

"  Can't  I  do  anything  with  this  barege?  It's  one 
of  iny  favorite  dresses,  and  I  hate  to  give  it  up." 

"  You  wore  that  thoroughly  out,  and  it 's  only  fit 
for  the  rag-bag.  Yes,  it  was  very  pretty  and  becom 
ing,  I  remember,  but  its  day  is  over." 

Fanny  let  the  dress  lie  in  her  lap  a  minute,  as  she 
absently  picked  at  the  fringe,  smiling  to  herself  over 
the  happy  time  when  she  wore  it  last,  and  Sydney  said 
she  only  needed  cowslips  in  her  lap  to  look  like 
spring.  Presently  she  folded  it  up,  and  put  it 
away  with  a  sigh ;  but  it  never  went  into  the  rag 
bag,  and  my  sentimental  readers  can  understand  what 
saved  it. 

"  The  ball  dresses  had  better  be  put  nicely  away  till 
next  year,"  began  Polly,  coming  to  a  rainbow-colored 
heap. 

u  My  day  is  over,  I  shall  never  use  them  again ;  do 
what  you  like  with  them,"  said  Fan,  calmly. 

"  Did  you  ever  sell  your  cast-off  finery,  as  many 
ladies  do?"  asked  Polly. 

41  Never ;  I  don't  like  the  fashion.  I  give  it  away, 
or  let  Maud  have  it  for  tableaux." 

"  I  wonder  if  you  would  mind  my  telling  you  some 
thing  Belle  proposed?" 

u  If  it 's  an  offer  to  buy  my  clothes,  I  should  mind," 
answered  Fanny,  sharply. 

"  Then  I  won't,"  and  Polly  retired  behind  a  cloncf 


320  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

of  arsenic-green  gauze,  which  made  her  look  as  if  she 
had  the  cholera. 

"  If  she  wanted  to  buy  that  horrid  new  '  gooseberry 
colored  gown/  as  Tom  calls  it,  I'd  let  her  have  it 
cheap,"  put  in  Maud,  who  was  of  a  practical  turn. 

"Does  she  want  it,  Polly?"  asked  Fan,  whose 
curiosity  got  the  better  of  her  pride. 

"  Well,  she  merely  asked  me  if  I  thought  you  'd  be 
mortally  offended,  if  she  offered  to  take  it  off  your 
hands,  as  you  'd  never  worn  it.  You  don't  like  it,  and 
another  season  it  will  be  all  out  of  fashion,"  said 
Polly,  from  her  verdant  retreat. 

"What  did  you  say?" 

"I  saw  she  meant  it  kindly,  so  I  said  I'd  ask. 
Now  between  ourselves,  Fan,  the  price  of  that  dress 
would  give  you  all  you  '11  want  for  your  spring  fixings, 
that 's  one  consideration  ;  then  here 's  another,  which 
may  have  some  weight  with  you,"  added  Polly,  slyly. 
"  Trix  told  Belle  she  was  going  to  ask  you  for  the 
dress,  as  you  wouldn't  care  to  wear  it  now.  That 
made  Belle  fire  up,  and  say  it  was  a  mean  thing  to 
do  without  offering  some  return,  for  a  costly  thing 
like  that ;  and  then  Belle  said,  in  her  blunt  way,  '  I  '11 
give  Fan  all  she  paid  for  it,  and  more  too,  if  it  will 
be  any  help  to  her.  I  don't  care  for  the  dress,  but 
I  'd  like  to  slip  a  little  money  into  her  pocket,  for  I 
know  she  needs  it,  and  is  too  good  to  ask  dear  Mr. 
Shaw  for  anything  she  can  get  on  without.' " 

"  Did  she  say  that?  I  '11  give  her  the  dress,  and  not 
take  a  penny  for  it,"  cried  Fan,  flushing  up  with 
mingled  anger  toward  Trix,  and  gratitude  to  Belle. 
'  "  That  won't  suit  her ;  you  let  me  manage  it,  and 


A  Dress  Parade.  321 

don't  feel  any  shame  or  anxiety  about  it.  You  did 
many  a  kind  and  generous  thing  for  Belle  when  you 
had  the  power,  and  you  liked  to  do  it ;  now  let  her 
pay  her  debts,  and  have  the  same  pleasure." 

"  If  she  looks  at  it  in  that  way  it  makes  a  difference. 
Perhaps  I  'd  better,  —  the  money  would  be  an  immense 
help,  —  only  I  don't  quite  like  to  take  it." 

"  Kings  and  queens  sell  their  jewels  when  times  are 
hard  or  they  get  turned  off  their  thrones,  and  no  one 
thinks  it  anything  amiss,  so  why  need  you  ?  It 's  just 
a  little  transaction  between  two  friends  who  exchange 
things  they  don't  want  for  things  which  they  do,  and 
I'd  do  it  if  I  were  you." 

"  We  '11  see  about  it,"  said  Fan,  privately  resolving 
to  take  Polly's  advice. 

"  If  I  had  lots  of  things  like  Fan,  I  'd  have  an  auc 
tion,  and  get  all  I  could  for  them.  Why  don't  you  ?  * 
asked  Maud,  .beginning  on  her  third  bonnet. 

"  We  will,"  said  Polly  ;  and  mounting  a  chair,  she 
put  up,  bid  in,  and  knocked  down  Fan's  entire  ward 
robe  to  an  imaginary  group  of  friends,  with  such  droll 
imitations  of  each  one  that  the  room  rung  with 
laughter. 

"That's  enough  nonsense;  now  we'll  return  to 
business,"  said  Polly,  descending  breathless,  but  sat 
isfied  with  the  effect  of  her  fun. 

"  These  white  muslins  and  pretty  silks  will  keep  for 
years,  so  I  should  lay  them  by  till  they  are  needed. 
It  will  save  buying,  and  you  can  go  to  your  stock  any 
time  and  make  over  what  you  want.  That 's  the  way 
mother  does ;  we  Ve  always  had  things  sent  us  from 
richer  friends,  and  whatever  was  n't  proper  for  us  to 
21 


322      .     An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

wear  at  the  time,  mother  put  away  to  be  used  when 
we  needed  it.  Such  funny  bundles  as  we  used  to 
have  sometimes  :  odd  shoes,  bonnets  without  crowns, 
stockings  without  heels  or  toes,  and  old  finery  of  all 
sorts.  We  used  to  rush  when  a  bundle  came,  and  sit 
round  while  mother  opened  it.  The  boys  always 
made  fun  of  the  things,  though  they  were  as  grateful, 
really,  as  any  of  us.  Will  made  a  verse  one  day, 
which  we  thought  pretty  well  for  a  little  chap :  — 

*  To  poor  country  folks 

Who  have  n't  any  clothes, 
Rich  folks,  to  relieve  them, 
Send  old  lace  gowns  and  satin  bows.' " 

"  I  think  that  Will  is  going  to  be  as  nice  a  poet  as 
Mr.  Shakespeare,"  remarked  Maud,  in  a  tone  of  seri 
ous  conviction. 

"  He  is  already  a  Milton ;  but  I  don't  believe  he 
will  ever  be  anything  but  a  poet  in  name,"  said  Polly, 
working  away  while  she  talked. 

"Didn't  your  mother  ever  let  you  wear  the  nice 
things  that  came  ?  "  asked  Maud. 

"  No  ;  she  thought  it  was  n't  the  thing  for  a  poor 
minister's  girls  to  go  flourishing  about  in  second-hand 
finery,  so  she  did  what  I  'm  doing  now,  put  away  what 
would  be  useful  and  proper  for  us  by  and  by,  and  let 
us  play  with  the  shabby,  silk  bonnets  and  dirty, 
flounced  gowns.  Such  fun  as  we  used  to  have  up  in 
our  big  garret !  I  remember  one  day  we  'd  been  play 
ing  have  a  ball,  and  were  all  rigged  up,  even  the  boys. 
Some  new  neighbors  came  to  call,  and  expressed  & 
wish  to  see  us,  having  been  told  that  we  were  pattern 


A  Dress  Parade.  323 

children.  Mother  called  us,  but  we  had  paraded  out 
into  the  garden,  after  our  ball,  and  were  having  a 
concert,  as  we  sat  about  on  the  cabbages  for  green 
satin  seats,  so  we  didn't  hear  the  call;  and  just  as 
the  company  was  going,  a  great  noise  arrested  them 
on  the  door-step,  and  round  the  corner  of  the  house 
rattled  Ned  in  full  costume,  wheeling  Kitty  in  a  bar 
row,  while  Jimmy,  Will,  and  I  ran  screaming  after 
looking  like  Bedlamites ;  for  we  were  playing  that 
Lady  Fitz  Perkins  had  fainted,  and  was  being  borne 
home  senseless  in  a  cab.  I  thought  mother  would  kill 
herself  with  laughing  ;  and  you  can  imagine  what  a 
fine  impression  the  strangers  received  of  the  model 
children." 

Maud  was  so  tickled  with  this  youthful  prank  that 
she  unguardedly  sat  down  to  laugh  on  the  edge  of  an 
open  trunk,  immediately  doubled  up,  fell  in,  and  was 
with  difficulty  extricated. 

"  People  in  the  country  have  great  deal  nicer  times 
than  we  do.  /  never  rode  in  a  wheelbarrow,  I  never 
sat  on  cabbages,  and  I  don't  think  it's  fair,"  she  said, 
with  an  injured  expression.  "  You  need  n't  save  any 
old  silk  gowns  for  me  ;  I  don't  mean  to  be  a  fine  lady 
when  I  grow  up,  I  'm  going  to  be  a  farmer's  wife,  and 
make  butter  and  cheese,  and  have  ten  children,  and 
raise  pigs,"  she  added,  in  one  enthusiastic  burst. 

"  I  do  believe  she  will  if  she  can  find  a  farmer  any 
where,"  said  Fanny. 

"  Oh,  I  'm  going  to  have  Will ;  I  asked  him  and  he 
said  '  All  right.'  He  's  going  to  preach  Sundays,  and 
work  on  the  farm  the  rest  of  the  time.  Well,  he  is, 
so  you  need  n't  laugh,  for  we  've  made  all  our  plans," 


324  An  O Id-Fashioned  GirL 

said  Maud  with  comical  dignity,  as  she  tried  the  effect 
of  an  old  white  bonnet,  wondering  if  farmers'  wives 
could  wear  ostrich  feathers  when  they  went  to  meeting. 

u  Blessed  innocence  !  Don't  you  wish  you  were 
a  child,  and  dared  tell  what  you  want?"  murmured 
Fanny. 

"  I  wish  I  had  seen  Will's  face  when  Maud  pro 
posed,"  answered  Polly,  with  a  nod  which  answered 
her  friend's  speech  better  than  her  words. 

"Any  news  of  anybody?"  whispered  Fan,  affecting 
to  examine  a  sleeve  with  care. 

"  Still  at  the  South  ;  don't  think  late  events  have 
been  reported  yet ;  that  accounts  for  absence,"  an 
swered  Polly. 

"  I  think  Sir  Philip  was  hit  harder  than  was  sup 
posed,"  said  Fan. 

"  I  doubt  it ;  but  time  cures  wounds  of  that  sort 
amazing  quick." 

"  Wish  it  did  !  " 

"Who  is  Sir  Philip?"  demanded  Maud,  pricking 
up  her  ears. 

"  A  famous  man  who  lived  in  the  time  of  Queen 
Elizabeth,"  answered  Fan,  with  a  look  at  Polly. 

"  Oh  !  "  and  Maud  seemed  satisfied,  but  the  sharp 
child  had  her  suspicions,  nevertheless. 

"  There  will  be  an  immense  deal  of  work  in  all  this 
fixing  over,  and  I  hate  to  sew,"  said  Fanny,  to  divert 
a  certain  person's  thoughts. 

"Jenny  and  I  are  going  to  help.  We  are  your 
debtors  as  well  as  Belle,  and  demand  the  privilege 
of  paying  up.  Blessings,  like  curses,  come  home  to 
roost,  Fan." 


A  Dress  Parade.  325 

44  Mine  come  home  a  good  deal  bigger  than  they 
went,"  answered  Fanny,  looking  pleased  that  little 
favors  should  be  so  faithfully  remembered. 

"  The  interest  on  that  sort  of  investment  rolls  up 
beautifully,  you  know.  Now  rip  that  dress  for  Jenny 
to  put  in  order,  and  I  '11  toss  you  up  a  bonnet  in  less 
than  no  time,"  said  Polly,  determined  to  have  things 
go  smoothly,  for  she  knew  Fan's  feelings  had  been  a 
good  deal  tried  lately,  in  many  ways. 

"  I  must  have  something  to  match  my  dress,  and 
blue  inside,"  said  Fanny,  bringing  out  her  nbbon 
boxes. 

"  Anything  you  like,  my  dear ;  when  it  comes  to 
bonnets,  I  am  usually  inspired.  I  have  it !  there  we 
are  !  and  nothing  could  be  nicer,"  cried  Poll}7,  making 
a  dive  among  the  silks  Fan  was  turning  over  with  a 
lost  expression.  "  This  bit  of  silver-gray  is  all  I  ask, 
here  's  enough  for  a  killing  bonnet,  and  those  forget- 
me-nots  are  both  pretty  and  appropriate." 

44  You  wretch,  be  still ! "  cried  Fanny,  as  Polly 
looked  up  at  her  with  a  wicked  laugh  in  her  eyes. 

44  It  will  be  done  in  time,  and  the  dress  likewise, 
so  look  your  prettiest,  and  accept  my  blessing,"  con 
tinued  Polly,  seeing  that  Fan  liked  her  raillery. 

44  Time  for  what?"  asked  Paulina  Pry. 

44  Your  wedding,  dear,"  sweetly  answered  Fan,  for 
Polly's  pleasant  hints  and  predictions  put  her  in  a 
charming  humor,  and  even  made  old  clothes  of  little 
consequence. 

Maud  gave  an  incredulous  sniff,  and  wondered  why 
44  big  girls  need  to  be  so  dreadful  nysterious  about 
their  old  secrets." 


326  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

"This  silk  reminds  me  of  Kitty's  performance  last 
summer.  A  little  checked  silk  was  sent  in  our  spring 
bundle  from  Mrs.  Davenport,  and  mother  said  Kit 
might  have  it,  if  she  could  make  it  do.  So  I  washed 
it  nicely,  and  we  fussed  and  planned,  but  it  came  short 
by  half  of  one  sleeve.  I  gave  it  up,  but  Kit  went  to 
work  and  matched  every  scrap  that  was  left  so  neatly, 
that  she  got  out  the  half  sleeve,  put  it  on  the  under 
side,  and  no  one  was  the  wiser.  How  many  pieces 
do  you  think  she  put  in,  Maud?" 

"  Fifty,"  was  the  wise  reply. 

"  No,  only  ten ;  but  that  was  pretty  well  for  a 
fourteen-year-old  dressmaker.  You  ought  to  have 
seen  the  little  witch  laugh  in  her  sleeve  when  any 
one  admired  the  dress,  for  she  wore  it  all  summer, 
and  looked  as  pretty  as  a  pink  in  it.  Such  things  are 
great  fun,  when  you  get  used  to  them ;  besides,  con 
triving  sharpens  your  wits,  and  makes  you  feel  as  if 
you  had  more  bands  than  most  people  " 

"  I  think  we  '11  get  a  farm  near  your  house  ;  I  should 
like  to  know  Kitty,"  said  Maud,  feeling  a  curious 
interest  in  a  girl  who  made  such  peculiar  patchwork. 

"  The  dress-parade  is  over,  and  I  'm  ever  so  much 
obliged  to  you,  Polly,  for  helping  me  through,  and 
showing  me  how  to  make  the  best  of  things.  I  hope 
in  time  to  have  as  many  hands  as  you,"  said  Fan, 
gratefully,  when  the  simple  bonnet  was  done,  and 
everything  planned  out  ready  to  be  finished. 

"  I  hope  you  will  soon  have  two  good,  strong  ones 
beside  your  own,  my  dear,"  answered  Polly,  as  she 
vanished,  with  a  parting  twinkle  that  kept  Fan's  face 
bright  all  day. 


CHAPTER    XVH. 

PLAYING  GRANDMOTHER. 

I  THINK  Tom  had  the  hardest  time  of  all,  for  be 
sides  the  family  troubles,  he  had  many  of  his  own 
to  perplex  and  harass  him.  College  scrapes  were 
soon  forgotten  in  greater  afflictions ;  but  there  were 
plenty  of  tongues  to  blame  "  that  extravagant  clog," 
and  plenty  of  heads  to  wag  ominously  over  prophecies 
of  the  good  time  Tom  Shaw  would  now  make  on  the 
road  to  ruin.  As  reporters  flourish  in  this  country, 
of  course  Tom  soon  heard  all  the  friendly  criticisms 
passed  upon  him  and  his  career,  and  he  suffered  more 
than  anybody  guessed ;  for  the  truth  that  was  at  the 
bottom  of  the  gossip  filled  him  with  the  sharp  regret 
and  impotent  wrath  against  himself  as  well  as  others, 
which  drives  many  a  proud  fellow,  so  placed,  to  de 
struction,  or  the  effort  that  redeems  boyish  folly,  and 
makes  a  man  of  him. 

Now  that  he  had  lost  his  heritage,  Tom  seemed  to 
see  for  the  first  time  how  goodly  it  had  been,  how 
rich  in  power,  pleasure,  and  gracious  opportunities. 
He  felt  its  worth  even  while  he  acknowledged,  with 
the  sense  of  justice  that  is  strong  in  manly  men,  how 
little  he  deserved  a  gift  which  he  had  so  misused. 


328  An  Old- Fashioned  Girl. 

He  brooded  over  this  a  good  deal,  for,  like  the  bat  ID 
the  fable,  he  did  n't  seem  to  find  any  place  in  the  new 
life  which  had  begun  for  all.  Knowing  nothing  of 
business,  he  was  not  of  much  use  to  his  father,  though 
he  tried  to  be,  and  generally  ended  by  feeling  that  he 
was  a  hindrance,  not  a  help.  Domestic  affairs  were 
equally  out  of  his  line,  and  the  girls,  more  frank  than 
their  father,  did  not  hesitate  to  tell  him  he  was  in  the 
way  when  he  offered  to  lend  a  hand  anywhere.  After 
the  first  excitement  was  over,  and  he  had  time  to 
think,  heart  and  energy  seemed  to  die  out,  remorse 
got  hold  of  him,  and,  as  generous,  thoughtless  natures 
are  apt  to  do  wlfen  suddenly  confronted  with  con 
science,  he  exaggerated  his  faults  and  follies  into  sins 
of  the  deepest  dye,  and  fancied  he  was  regarded  by 
others  as  a  villain  and  an  outcast.  Pride  and  pen 
itence  made  him  shrink  out  of  sight  as  much  as  possi 
ble,  for  he  could  not  bear  pity,  even  when  silently 
expressed  by  a  friendly  hand  or  a  kindly  eye.  He 
stayed  at  home  a  good  deal,  and  loafed  about  with  a 
melancholy  and  neglected  air,  vanished  when  any  one 
came,  talked  very  little,  and  was  either  pathetically 
humble  or  tragically  croys.  He  wanted  to  do  some 
thing,  but  nothing  seemed  to  appear ;  and  while  he 
waited  to  get  his  poise  after  the  downfall,  he  was  so 
very  miserable  that  I  'm  afraid,  if  it  had  not  been  for 
one  thing,  my  poor  Tom  would  have  got  desperate, 
and  been  a  failure.  But  when  he  seemed  most  useless, 
outcast,  and  forlorn,  he  discovered  that  one  person 
needed  him,  one  person  never  found  him  in  the  way, 
one  person  always  welcomed  and  clung  to  him  with 
the  strongest  affection  of  a  very  feeble  nature.  This 


Playing  Grandmother.  329 

dependence  of  his  mother's  was  Tom's  salvation  at 
that  crisis  of  his  life  ;  and  the  gossips,  who  said  softly 
to  one  another  over  their  muffins  and  tea,  "  It  really 
would  be  a  relief  to  that  whole  family  if  poor,  dear 
Mrs.  Shaw  could  be  —  ahem  !  —  mercifully  removed,'* 
did  not  know  that  the  invalid's  weak,  idle  hands  were 
unconsciously  keeping  the  son  safe  in  that  quiet  room, 
where  she  gave  him  all  that  she  had  to  give,  mother* 
love,  till  he  took  heart  again,  and  faced  the  world, 
ready  to  fight  his  battles  manfully. 

"  Dear,  dear !  how  old  and  bent  poor  father  does 
look.  I  hope  he  won't  forget  to  order  my  sweet 
bread,"  sighed  Mrs.  Shaw  one  day,  as  she  watched  her 
husband  slowly  going  down  the  street. 

Tom,  who  stood  by  her,  idly  spinning  the  curtain 
tassel,  followed  the  familiar  figure  with  his  eye,  and 
seeing  how  gray  the  hair  had  grown,  how  careworn  the 
florid  face,  and  how  like  a  weary  old  man  his  once 
strong,  handsome  father  walked,  he  was  smitten  by 
a  new  pang  of  self-reproach,  and  with  his  usual  im 
petuosity  set  about  repairing  the  omission  as  soon  as 
he  discovered  it. 

"  I  '11  see  to  your  sweetbread,  mum.  Good  by, 
back  to  dinner,"  and  with  a  hasty  kiss,  Tom  was  off. 

lie  did  n't  know  exactly  what  he  meant  to  do,  but 
it  had  suddenly  come  over  him,  that  he  was  hiding 
from  the  storm,  and  letting  his  father  meet  it  alone ; 
for  the  old  *nan  went  to  his  office  every  day  with  the 
regularity  of  a  machine,  that  would  go  its  usual  round 
until  it  stopped,  while  the  young  man  stayed  at  home 
with  the  women,  and  let  his  mother  comfort  him. 

"  He  has  a  right  to  be  ashamed  of  me,  but  I  act  as 


330  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

if  I  was  ashamed  of  him ;  dare  say  people  think  so 
I  '11  show  them  that  I  ain't ;  yes,  by  the  powers,  I 
will ! "  and  Tom  drew  on  his  gloves  with  the  air  of  a 
man  about  to  meet  and  conquer  an  enemy. 

"Have  an  arm,  sir?  If  you  don't  mind  I'll  walk 
down  with  you.  Little  commission  for  mother, —  nice 
day,  isn't  it?" 

Tom  rather  broke  down  at  the  end  of  his  speech,  for 
the  look  of  pleased  surprise  with  which  his  father 
greeted  him,  the  alacrity  with  which  he  accepted  and 
leaned  on  the  strong  arm  offered  him,  proved  that  the 
daily  walks  had  been  solitary  and  doubtless  sad  ones, 
I  think  Mr.  Shaw  understood  the  real  meaning  of  that 
little  act  of  respect,  and  felt  better  for  the  hopeful 
change  it  seemed  to  foretell.  But  he  took  it  quietly, 
and  leaving  his  face  to  speak  for  him,  merely 
said.  — 

"  Thanky,  Tom ;  yes,  mother  will  enjoy  her  dinner 
twice  as  much  if  you  order  it." 

Then  they  began  to  talk  business  with  all  their 
might,  as  if  they  feared  that  some  trace  of  sentiment 
might  disgrace  their  masculine  dignity.  But^it  made 
no  difference  whether  they  discussed  lawsuits  or  love, 
mortgages  or  mothers,  the  feeling  was  all  right  and 
they  knew  it,  so  Mr.  Shaw  walked  straighter  than 
usual,  and  Tom  felt  that  he  was  in  his  proper  place 
again.  The  walk  was  not  without  its  trials,  however ; 
for  while  it  did  Tom's  heart  good  to  see  the  cordial 
respect  paid  to  his  father,  it  tried  his  patience  sorely 
to  see  also  inquisitive  or  disapproving  glances  fixed 
upon  himself  when  hats  were  lifted  to  his  father,  and 
to  hear  the  hearty  "  Good  day,  Mr.  Shaw,"  drop  into  a 


Playing  Grandmother*  331 

cool  or  careless,  "  That 's  the  son  ;  it 's  hard  on  him. 
Wild  fellow,  do  him  good." 

"  Granted  ;  but  you  need  n't  hit  a  man  when  he  's 
down,"  muttered  Tom  to  himself,  feeling  every  mo 
ment  a  stronger  desire  to  do  something  that  should 
silence  everybody.  "  I  'd  cut  away  to  Australia  if  it 
was  n't  for  mother ;  anything,  anywhere  to  get  out 
of  the  way  of  people  who  know  me.  I  never  can 
right  myself  here,  with  all  the  fellows  watching,  and 
laying  wagers  whether  I  sink  or  swim.  Hang  Greek 
and  Latin  !  wish  I  'd  learned  a  trade,  and  had  some 
thing  to  fall  back  upon.  Have  n't  a  blessed  thing 
now,  but  decent  French  and  my  fists.  Wonder  if  old 
Bell  don't  want  a  clerk  for  the  Paris  branch  of  the 
business  ?  That  would  n't  be  bad  ;  faith,  I  '11  try  it." 

And  when  Tom  had  landed  his  father  safely  at  the 
office,  to  the  great  edification  of  all  beholders,  he 
screwed  up  his  courage,  and  went  to  prefer  his  re 
quest,  feeling  that  the  prospect  brightened  a  little. 
But  Mr.  Bell  was  not  in  a  good  humor,  and  only  gave 
Tom  a  severe  lecture  on  the  error  of  his  ways,  which 
sent  him  home  much  depressed,  and  caused  the  hori 
zon  to  lower  again. 

As  he  roamed  about  the  house  that  afternoon,  try 
ing  to  calculate  how  much  an  Australian  outfit  would 
cost,  the  sound  of  lively  voices  and  clattering  spoons 
attracted  him  to  the  kitchen.  There  he  found  Polly 
giving  Maud  lessons  in  cookery  ;  for  the  "  new  help  " 
not  being  a  high-priced  article,  could  not  be  depended 
on  for  desserts,  and  Mrs.  Shaw  would  have  felt  as  if 
the  wolf  was  at  the  door  if  there  was  not  "  a  sweet 
dish"  at  dinner.  Maud  had  a  genius  for  cooking, 


332  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

and  Fanny  hated  it,  so  that  little  person  was  in  her 
glory,  studying  receipt  books,  and  taking  lessons 
whenever  Polly  could  give  them. 

"  Gracious  me,  Tom,  don't  come  now  ;  we  are  aw 
ful  busy!  Men  don't  belong  in  kitchens,"  cried 
Maud,  as  her  brother  appeared  in  the  doorway. 

u  Could  n't  think  what  you  were  about.  Mum  is 
asleep,  and  Fan  out,  so  I  loafed  down  to  see  if 
there  was  any  fun  afoot,"  said  Tom,  lingering,  as  if 
the  prospect  was  agreeable.  He  was  a  social  fellow, 
and  very  grateful  just  then  to  any  one  who  helped 
him  to  forget  his  worries  for  a  time.  Polly  knew  this, 
felt  that  his  society  would  not  be  a  great  affliction  to 
herself,  at  least,  and  whispering  to  Maud,  "  He  won't 
know,"  she  added,  aloud,  — 

"  Come  in  if  you  like,  and  stir  this  cake  for  me  ;  it 
needs  a  strong  hand,  and  mine  are  tired.  There,  put  on 
that  apron  to  keep  you  tidy,  sit  here,  and  take  it  easy." 

"  I  used  to  help  grandma  bat  up  cake,  and  rather 
liked  it,  if  I  remember  right,"  said  Tom,  letting  Polly 
tie  a  checked  apron  on  him,  put  a  big  bowl  into  his 
hands,  and  settle  him  near  the  table,  where  Maud  was 
picking  raisins,  and  she  herself  stirring  busily  about 
among  spice-boxes,  rolling-pins,  and  butter-pots. 

"You  do  it  beautifully,  Tom.  I'll  give  you  a 
conundrum  to  lighten  your  labor :  Why  are  bad  boys 
like  cake  ?  "  asked  Polly,  anxious  to  cheer  him  up. 

"  Because  a  good  beating  makes  them  better.  I 
doubt  that  myself,  though,"  answered  Tom,  nearly 
knocking  the  bottom  of  the  bowl  out  with  his  ener 
getic  demonstrations,  for  it  really  was  a  relief  to  do 
something. 


"Life,  my  brethren,  is  like  plum-cake."  —  PAGE  333. 


Playing    Grandmother.  333 

u Bright  boy!  here's  a  plum  for  you,"  and  Polly 
threw  a  plump  raisin  into  his  mouth. 

"  Put  in  lots,  won't  jrou  ?  I  'm  rather  fond  of  plum- 
cake,"  observed  Tom,  likening  himself  to  Hercules 
with  the  distaff,  and  finding  his  employment  pleasant, 
if  not  classical. 

"  I  always  do,  if  I  can  ;  there 's  nothing  I  like  better 
than  to  shovel  in  sugar  and  spice,  and  make  nice, 
plummy  cake  for  people.  It 's  one  of  the  few  things 
I  have  a  gift  for." 

"  You  've  hit  it  this  time,  Polly  ;  you  certainly  have 
a  gift  for  putting  a  good  deal  of  both  articles  into 
your  own  and  other  people's  lives,  which  is  lucky,  as 
we  all  have  to  eat  that  sort  of  cake,  whether  we  like 
it  or  not,"  observed  Tom,  so  soberly  that  Polly  opened 
her  eyes,  and  Maud  exclaimed,  — 

"  I  do  believe  he 's  preaching." 

"  Feel  as  if  I  could  sometimes,"  continued  Tom ; 
then  his  eye  fell  upon  the  dimples  in  Polly's  elbows, 
and  he  added,  with  a  laugh,  "That's  more  in  your 
line,  ma'am  ;  can't  you  give  us  a  sermon  ?  " 

"A  short  one.  Life,  my  brethren,  is  like  plum- 
cake,"  began  Polly,  impressively  folding  her  floury 
hands.  "  In  some  the  plums  are  all  on  the  top,  and 
we  eat  them  gayly,  till  we  suddenly  find  they  are  gone. 
In  others  the  plums  sink  to  the  bottom,  and  we  look 
for  them  in  vain  as  we  go  on,  and  often  come  to  them 
when  it  is  too  late  to  enjoy  them.  But  in  the  well- 
made  cake,  the  plums  are  wisely  scattered  all  through, 
and  every  mouthful  is  a  pleasure.  We  make  our  own 
cakes,  in  a  great  measure,  therefore  let  us  look  to  it, 
my  brethren,  that  they  are  mixed  according  to  the 


334  -An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

best  receipt,  baked  in  a  well-regulated  oven,  and  grate 
fully  eaten  with  a  temperate  appetite." 

"  Good  !  good  !  "  cried  Tom,  applauding  with  the 
wooden  spoon.  "That's  a  model  sermon,  Polly, — 
short,  sweet,  sensible,  and  not  a  bit  sleepy.  I  'm  one 
of  your  parish,  and  will  see  that  you  get  your  ;  celery 
punctooal,'  as  old  Deacon  Morse  used  to  say." 

"  '  Thank  you,  brother,  my  wants  is  few,  and  ravens 
scurser  than  they  used  to  be/  as  dear  old  Parson 
Miller  used  to  answer.  Now,  Maud,  bring  on  the 
citron;"  and  Polly  began  to  put  the  cake  together  in 
what  seemed  a  most  careless  and  chaotic  manner, 
while  Tom  and  Maud  watched  with  absorbing  interest 
till  it  was  safely  in  the  oven. 

"  Now  make  your  custards,  dear  ;  Tom  may  like  to 
beat  the  eggs  for  you  ;  it  seems  to  have  a  good  effect 
upon  his  constitution." 

"  First-rate  ;  hand  'em  along,"  and  Tom  smoothed 
his  apron  with  a  cheerful  air.  "  By  the  way,  Syd  's 
got  back.  I  met  him  yesterday,  and  he  treated  me 
like  a  man  and  a  brother,''"  he  added,  as  if  anxious  to 
contribute  to  the  pleasures  of  the  hour. 

"I'm  so  glad!"  cried  Polly,  clapping  her  hands, 
regardless  of  the  egg  she  held,  which  dropped  and 
smashed  on  the  floor  at  her  feet.  "Careless  thing! 
pick  it  up,  Maud,  I'll  get  some  more;"  and  Polly 
whisked  out  of  the  room,  glad  of  an  excuse  to  run 
and  tell  Fan,  who  had  just  come  in,  lest,  hearing  the 
news  in  public,  she  might  be  startled  out  of  the  well- 
bred  composure  with  which  young  ladies  are  expected 
to  receive  tidings,  even  of  the  most  vital  import 
ance. 


Playing   Grandmother.  335 

•4You  know  all  about  history,  don't  you?"  asked 
Maud,  suddenly. 

44  Not  quite,"  modestly  answered  Tom. 

"  I  just  want  to  know  if  there  really  was  a  man 
named  Sir  Philip,  in  the  time  of  Queen  Elizabeth." 

"You  mean  Sir  Philip  Sidney?  Yes,  he  lived 
then,  and  a  fine  old  fellow  he  was  too." 

"  There  ;  I  knew  the  girls  did  n't  mean  him,"  cried 
Maud,  with  a  chop  that  sent  the  citron  flying. 

44  What  mischief  are  you  up  to  now,  you  little  mag 
pie?" 

44 1  shan't  tell  you  what  they  said,  because  I  don't 
remember  much  of  it ;  but  I  heard  Polly  and  Fan 
talking  about  some  one  dreadful  mysterious,  and 
when  I  asked  who  it  was,  Fan  said,  4  Sir  Philip/ 
Ho  !  she  need  n't  think  I  believe  it !  I  saw  'em  laugh, 
and  blush,  and  poke  one  another,  and  I  Jcnew  it  wasn't 
about  any  old  Queen  Elizabeth  man,"  cried  Maud, 
turning  up  her  nose  as  far  as  that  somewhat  limited 
feature  would  go. 

44  Look  here,  you.  are  letting  cats  out  of  the  bag. 
Never  mind,  I  thought  so.  They  don't  tell  us  their 
secrets,  but  we  are  so  sharp,  we  can't  help  finding 
them  out,  can  we  ?  "  said  Tom,  looking  so  much  inter 
ested,  that  Maud  could  n't  resist  airing  her  knowledge 
a  little. 

44  Well,  I  dare  say,  it  isn't  proper  for  you  to  know, 
but  /  am  old  enough  now-  to  be  told  anything,  and 
those  girls  better  mind  what  they  say,  for  I  'm  not  a 
stupid  chit,  like  Blanche.  I  just  wish  you  could  have 
heard  them  go  on.  I  'm  sure  there  's  something  very 
nice  about  Mr.  Sydney,  they  looked  so  pleased  when 


336  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

they  whispered  and  giggled  on  the  bed,  and  thought 
I  was  ripping  bonnets,  and  did  n't  hear  a  word." 

"Which  looked  most  pleased  ?"  asked  Tom,  invea 
tigating  the  kitchen  boiler  with  deep  interest. 

"Well,  'pears  to  me  Polly  did;  she  talked  most, 
and  looked  funny  and  very  happy  all  the  time.  Fan 
laughed  a  good  deal,  but  I  guess  Polly  is  the  lov- 
eress,"  replied  Maud,  after  a  moment's  reflection. 

"Hold  your  tongue;  she's  coming!"  and  Tom 
began  to  pump  as  if  the  house  was  on  fire. 

Down  came  Polly,  with  heightened  color,  bright 
eyes,  and  not  a  single  egg.  Tom  took  a  quick  look 
at  her  over  his  shoulder,  and  paused  as  if  the  fire  was 
suddenly  extinguished.  Something  in  his  face  made 
Polly  feel  a  little  guilty,  so  she  fell  to  grating  nut 
meg,  with  a  vigor  which  made  red  cheeks  the  most 
natural  thing  in  life.  Maud,  the  traitor,  sat  demurely 
at  work,  looking  very  like  what  Tom  had  called  her, 
a  magpie  with  mischief  in  its  head.  Polly  felt  a 
change  in  the  atmosphere,  but  merely  thought  Tom 
was  tired,  so  she  graciously  dismissed  him  with  a 
stick  of  cinnamon,  as  she  had  nothing  else  just  then 
to  lay  upon  the  shrine. 

"  Fan 's  got  the  books  and  maps  you  wanted.  Go 
and  rest  now.  I  'm  much  obliged ;  here 's  your  wages, 
Bridget." 

"  Good  luck  to  your  messes,"  answered  Tom,  as  he 
walked  away  meditatively  crunching  his  cinnamon, 
and  looking  as  if  he  did  not  find  it  as  spicy  as  usual. 
He  got  his  books,  but  did  not  read  them ;  for,  shut 
ting  himself  up  in  the  little  room  called  "  Tom's  den," 
he  just  sat  down  and  brooded. 


Playing   Grandmother.  337 

When  he  came  down  to  breakfast  the  next  morning, 
he  was  greeted  with  a  general  "  Happy  birth-day, 
Torn  !  "  and  at  his  place  lay  gifts  from  every  member 
of  the  family  ;  riot  as  costly  as  formerly,  perhaps,  but 
infinitely  dearer,  as  tokens  of  the  love  that  had  out 
lived  the  change,  and  only  grown  the  warmer  for  the 
test  of  misfortune.  In  his  present  state  of  mind,  Tom 
felt  as  if  he  did  not  deserve  a  blessed  thing ;  so  when 
every  one  exerted  themselves  to  make  it  a  happy  day 
for  him,  he  understood  what  it  means  "  to  be  nearly 
killed  with  kindness,"  and  sternly  resolved  to  be  an 
honor  to  his  family,  or  perish  in  the  attempt.  Even 
ing  brought  Polly  to  what  she  called  a  "  festive  tea," 
and  when  they  gathered  round  the  table,  another  gift 
appeared,  which,  though  not  of  a  sentimental  nature, 
touched  Tom  more  than  all  the  rest.  It  was  a  most 
delectable  cake,  with  a  nosegay  atop,  and  round  it  on 
the  snowy  frosting  there  ran  a  pink  inscription,  just 
as  it  had  been  every  year  since  Tom  could  remember. 

"Name,  age,  and  date,  like  a  nice  white  tomb 
stone,"  observed  Maud,  complacently,  at  which  fune 
real  remark,  Mrs.  Shaw,  who  was  down  in  honor  of 
the  day,  dropped  her  napkin,  and  demanded  her 
salts. 

"Whose  doing  is  that?"  asked  Tom,  surveying  the 
gift  with  satisfaction  ;  for  it  recalled  the  happier  birth 
days,  which  seemed  very  far  away  now. 

"  I  did  n't  know  what  to  give  you,  for  you  Ve  got 
everything  a  man  wants,  and  I  was  in  despair  till  I 
remembered  that  dear  grandma  always  made  you  a 
little  cake  like  that,  and  that  you  once  said  it  would  n't 
be  a  happy  birthday  without  it.  So  I  tried  to  make 
22 


338  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

it  just  like  hers,  and  I  do  hope  it  will  prove  a  good, 
sweet,  plummy  one." 

"  Thank  you,"  was  all  Tom  said,  as  he  smiled  at 
the  giver,  but  Polly  knew  that  her  present  had  pleased 
him  more  than  the  most  elegant  trifle  she  could  have 
made. 

"  It  ought  to  be  good,  for  you  beat  it  up  yourself. 
Tom,"  cried  Maud.  "It  was  so  funny  to  see  you 
working  away,  and  never  guessing  who  the  cake  was 
for.  I  perfectly  trembled  every  time  you  opened  your 
mouth,  for  fear  you'd  ask  some  question  about  it. 
That  was  the  reason  Polly  preached,  and  I  kept  talk 
ing  when  she  was  gone." 

"  Very  stupid  of  me ;  but  I  forgot  all  about  to-day. 
Suppose  we  cut  it ;  I  don't  seem  to  care  for  anything 
else,"  said  Tom,  feeling  no  appetite,  but  bound  to  do 
justice  to  that  cake,  if  he  fell  a  victim  to  his  gratitude. 

"  I  hope  the  plums  won't  all  be  at  the  bottom,"  said 
Polly,  as  she  rose  to  do  the  honors  of  the  cake,  by 
universal  appointment. 

"  I  've  had  a  good  many  at  the  top  already,  you 
know,"  answered  Tom,  watching  the  operation  w\th 
as  much  interest  as  if  he  had  faith  in  the  omen. 

Cutting  carefully,  slice  after  slice  fell  apart ;  e^ch 
firm  and  dark,  spicy  and  rich,  under  the  frosty  rime 
above ;  and  laying  a  specially  large  piece  in  one  of 
grandma's  quaint  little  china  plates,  Polly  added  the 
flowers  and  handed  it  to  Tom,  with  a  look  that  said  a 
good  deal,  for,  seeing  that  he  remembered  her  sermon, 
she  was  glad  to  find  that  her  allegory  held  good,  in 
one  sense  at  least.  Tom's  face  brightened  as  he  took 
it,  and  after  an  inspection  which  amused  the  others 


Playing   Grandmother.  339 

very  much,  he  looked  np,  saying,  with  an  air  of  relief, 
u  Plums  all  through ;  I  'm  glad  I  had  a  hand  in  it, 
but  Polljr  deserves  the  credit,  and  must  wear  the 
posy,"  and  turning  to  her,  he  put  the  rose  into  her 
hair  with  more  gallantry  than  taste,  for  a  thorn 
pricked  her  head,  the  leaves  tickled  her  ear,  and  the 
flower  was  upside  down. 

Fanny  laughed  at  his  want  of  skill,  but  Polly 
would  n't  have  it  altered,  and  everybody  fell  to  eat 
ing  cake,  as  if  indigestion  was  one  of  the  lost  arts. 
They  had  a  lively  tea,  and  were  getting  on  famously 
afterward,  when  two  letters  were  brought  for  Tom, 
who  glanced  at  one,  and  retired  rather  precipitately 
to  his  den,  leaving  Maud  consumed  with  curiosity, 
and  the  older  girls  slightly  excited,  for  Fan  thought 
she  recognized  the  handwriting  on  one,  and  Polly,  on 
the  other. 

One  half  an  hour  and  then  another  elapsed,  and 
Tom  did  not  return.  Mr.  Shaw  went  out,  Mrs.  Shaw 
retired  to  her  room  escorted  by  Maud,  and  the  two 
girls  sat  together  wondering  if  anything  dreadful  had 
happened.  All  of  a  sudden  a  voice  called,  "  Polly !  " 
and  that  young  lady  started  out  of  her  chair,  as  if 
the  sound  had  been  a  thunder  clap. 

"  Do  run !  I  'm  perfectly  fainting  to  know  what 
the  matter  is,"  said  Fan. 

"  You  'd  better  go,"  began  Polly,  wishing  to  obey, 
yet  feeling  a  little  shy. 

"  He  don't  want  me ;  besides,  I  could  n't  say  a 
word  for  myself  if  that  letter  was  from  Sydney,"  cried 
Fanny,  hustling  her  friend  towards  the  door,  in  a 
great  flutter. 


340  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

Polly  went  without  another  word,  but  she  wore  a 
curiously  anxious  look,  and  stopped  on  the  threshold 
of  the  den,  as  if  a  little  afraid  of  its  occupant.  Toin 
was  sitting  in  his  favorite  attitude,  astride  of  a  chair, 
with  his  arms  folded  and  his  chin  on  the  top  rail ;  not 
an  elegant  posture,  but  the  only  one  in  which,  he  said, 
he  could  think  welL 

"  Did  you  want  me,  Tom? " 

"  Yes.  Come  in,  please,  and  don't  look  scared ;  I 
only  want  to  show  you  a  present  I  've  had,  and  ask 
your  advice  about  accepting  it." 

"  Why,  Tom,  you  look  as  if  you  had  been  knocked 
down  !  "  exclaimed  Poll}*,  forgetting  all  about  herself, 
as  she  saw  his  face  when  he  rose  and  turned  to  meet 
her. 

"  I  have  ;  regularly  floored ;  but  I  'm  up  again,  and 
steadier  than  ever.  Just  you  read  that,  and  tell  me 
what  you  think  of  it." 

Tom  snatched  a  letter  off  the  table,  put  it  into  her 
hands,  and  began  to  walk  up  and  down  the  little 
room,  like  a  veritable  bear  in  its  cage.  As  Polly  read 
that  short  note,  all  the  color  went  out  of  her  face,  and 
her  eyes  began  to  kindle.  When  she  came  to  the  end, 
she  stood  a  minute,  as  if  too  indignant  to  speak,  then 
gave  the  paper  a  nervous  sort  of  crumple  and  dropped 
it  on  the  floor,  saying,  all  in  one  breath, — 

" 1  think  she  is  a  mercenary,  heartless,  ungrateful 
girl !  That 's  what  I  think." 

"  Oh,  the  —  deuce  !  I  did  n't  mean  to  show  that 
one ;  it 's  the  other."  And  Tom  took  up  a  second 
paper,  looking  half  angry,  half  ashamed  at  his  own 
mistake.  "  I  don't  care,  though  ;  every  one  will  know 


Playing   Grandmother.  34 1 

to-inonow ;  and  perhaps  you  '11  be  good  enough  to 
keep  the  girls  from  bothering  me  with  questions  and 
gabble,"  he  added,  as  if,  on  second  thoughts,  he  was 
relieved  to  have  the  communication  made  to  Polly 
first. 

"  I  don't  wonder  you  looked  upset.  If  the  other 
letter  is  as  bad,  I  'd  better  have  a  chair  before  I  read 
it,"  said  Polly,  feeling  that  she  began  to  tremble  with 
excitement. 

• 4  It's  a  million  times  better,  but  it  knocked  me  worse 
than  the  other ;  kindness  always  does."  Tom  stopped 
short  there,  and  stood  a  minute  turning  the  letter 
about  in  his  hand  as  if  it  contained  a  sweet  which 
neutralized  the  bitter  in  that  smaller  note,  and 
touched  him  very  much.  Then  he  drew  up  an  arm 
chair,  and  beckoning  Polly  to  take  it,  said  in  a  sober, 
steady  tone,  that  surprised  her  greatly,  — 

44  Whenever  I  was  in  a  quandary,  I  used  to  go  and 
consult  grandma,  and  she  always  had  something  sen 
sible  or  comfortable  to  say  to  me.  She 's  gone  now, 
but  somehow,  Polly,  you  seem  to  take  her  place. 
Would  you  mind  sitting  in  her  chair,  and  letting  me 
tell  you  two  or  three  things,  as  Will  does? " 

Mind  it?  Poljy  felt  that  Tom  had  paid  her  the 
highest  and  most  beautiful  compliment  he  could  have 
devised.  She  had  often  longed  to  do  it,  for,  being 
brought  up  in  the  most  affectionate  and  frank  rela 
tions  with  her  brothers,  she  had  early  learned  what  it 
takes  most  women  some  time  to  discover,  that  sex 
does  not  make  nearly  as  much  difference  in  hearts  and 
souls  as  we  fancy.  Joy  and  sorrow,  love  and  fear, 
life  and  death  bring  so  many  of  the  same  needs  to  all, 


34 2  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

that  the  wonder  is  we  do  not  understand  each  othei 
better,  but  wait  till  times  of  tribulation  teach  us  that 
human  nature  is  very  much  the  same  in  men  and 
women.  Thanks  to  this  knowledge,  Polly  understood 
Tom  in  a  way  that  surprised  and  won  him.  She  knew 
that  he  wanted  womanly  sympathy,  and  that  she  could 
give  it  to  him,  because  she  was  not  afraid  to  stretch 
her  hand  across  the  barrier  which  our  artificial  educa 
tion  puts  between  boys  and  girls,  and  to  say  to  hin? 
in  all  good  faith,  "  If  J  can  help  you,  let  me." 

Ten  minutes  soor^r  Polly  could  have  done  this 
almost  as  easily  to  Tom  as  to  Will,  but  in  that  ten 
minutes  something  had  happened  which  made  this 
difficult.  Reading  that  Trix  had  given  Tom  back  his 
freedom  changed  many  things  to  Polly,  and  caused 
her  to  shrink  from  his  confidence,  because  she  felt  as 
if  it  would  be  harder  now  to  keep  self  out  of  sight ; 
for,  spite  of  maiden  modesty,  love  and  hope  would 
wake  and  sing  at  the  good  news.  Slowly  she  sat 
down,  and  hesitatingly  she  said,  with  her  eyes  on  the 
ground,  and  a  very  humble  voice,  — 

"  1  '11  do  my  best,  but  I  can't  fill  grandma's  place, 
or  give  you  any  wise,  good  advice.  I  wish  I  could  !  " 

"You'll  do  it  better  than  any  one  else.  Talk 
troubles  mother,  father  has  enough  to  think  of  with 
out  any  of  my  worries.  Fan  is  a  good  soul,  but  she 
is  n't  practical,  and  we  always  get  into  a  snarl  if  \ve 
try  to  work  together,  so  who  have  I  but  my  other 
sister,  Polly  ?  The  pleasure  that  letter  will  give  you 
may  make  up  for  my  boring  you." 

As  he  spoke,  Tom  laid  the  other  paper  in  her  lap, 
and  went  off  to  the  window,  as  if  to  leave  her  free  to 


Playing  Grandmother.  343 

enjoy  it  unseen  ;  but  he  could  not  help  a  glance  now 
and  then,  and  as  Polly's  face  brightened,  his  own  fell. 

"  Oh,  Tom,  that 's  a  birthday  present  worth  having, 
for  it 's  so  beautifully  given  I  don't  see  how  you  can 
refuse  it.  Arther  Sydney  is  a  real  nobleman  !  "  cried 
Polly,  looking  up  at  last,  with  her  face  glowing,  and 
her  eyes  full  of  delight. 

"  So  he  is !  I  don't  know  another  man  living,  ex 
cept  father,  who  would  have  done  such  a  thing,  or 
who  I  could  bring  myself  to  take  it  from.  Do  you 
see,  he  's  not  only  paid  the  confounded  debts,  but  has 
done  it  in  my  name,  to  spare  me  all  he  could?" 

"  I  see,  it 's  like  him ;  and  I  think  he  must  be  very 
happy  to  be  able  to  do  such  a  thing." 

"It  is  an  immense  weight  off  my  shoulders,  for 
some  of  those  men  could  n't  afford  to  wait  till  I  'd 
begged,  borrowed  or  earned  the  money.  Sydney  can 
wait,  but  he  won't  long,  if  I  know  myself." 

"  You  won't  take  it  as  a  gift,  then  ?  " 

"Would  you?" 

"  No." 

"  Then  don't  think  I  will.  I  'm  a  pretty  poor  affair, 
Polly,  but  I  'm  not  mean  enough  to  do  that,  while  I  Ve 
got  a  conscience  and  a  pair  of  hands." 

A  rough  speech,  but  it  pleased  Polly  better  than 
the  smoothest  Tom  had  ever  made  in  her  hearing, 
for  something  in  his  face  and  voice  told  her  that  the 
friendly  act  had  roused  a  nobler  sentiment  than  grati 
tude,  making  the  cancelled  obligations  of  the  boy, 
debts  of  honor  to  the  man. 

"  What  will  you  do,  Tom?" 

"I'll  tell  you;  may  I  sit  here?"  And  Tom  tooh 


344  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

the  low  footstool  that  always  stood  near  grandma's 
old  chair.  "I've  had  so  many  plans  in  my  head 
lately,  that  sometimes  it  seems  as  if  it  would  split," 
continued  the  poor  fellow,  rubbing  his  tired  forehead, 
as  if  to  polish  up  his  wits.  "  I  've  thought  seriously 
of  going  to  California,  Australia,  or  some  out-of-the- 
way  place,  where  men  get  rich  in  a  hurry." 

"  Oh,  no ! "  cried  Polly,  putting  out  her  hand  as  if 
to  keep  him,  and  then  snatching  it  back  again  before 
he  could  turn  round. 

"  It  would  be  hard  on  mother  and  the  girls,  I  sup 
pose  ;  besides,  I  don't  quite  like  it  myself;  looks  as  if 
I  shirked  and  ran  away." 

"  So  it  does,"  said  Polly,  decidedly. 

"  Well,  you  see  I  don't  seem  to  find  anything  to  do 
unless  I  turn  clerk,  and  I  don't  think  that  would  suit. 
The  fact  is,  I  could  n't  stand  it  here,  where  I  'm 
known.  It  would  be  easier  to  scratch  gravel  on  a 
railroad,  with  a  gang  of  Paddies,  than  to  sell  pins  to 
my  friends  and  neighbors.  False  pride,  I  dare  say, 
but  it 's  the  truth,  and  there 's  no  use  in  dodging." 

"  Not  a  bit,  and  I  quite  agree  with  you." 

"That's  comfortable.  Now  I'm  coming  to  the 
point  where  I  specially  want  your  advice,  Polly. 
Yesterday  I  heard  you  telling  Fan  about  your  brother 
Ned ;  how  well  he  got  on ;  how  he  liked  his  business, 
and  wanted  Will  to  come  and  take  some  place  near 
him.  You  thought  I  was  reading,  but  I  heard  ;  and 
it  struck  me  that  perhaps  I  could  get  a  chance  out 
West  somewhere.  What  do  you  think  ?  " 

"  If  you  really  mean  work,  I  know  you  could,"  an 
swered  Polly,  quickly,  as  all  sorts  of  plans  and  pro- 


Playing   Grandmother.  345 

iects  went  sweeping  through  her  mind.  "  I  wish  you 
could  be  with  Ned  ;  you  'd  get  on  together,  I  'm  sure  ; 
and  he  'd  be  so  glad  to  do  anything  he  could.  I  '11 
write  and  ask,  straight  away,  if  you  want  me  to.' 

"  Suppose  you  do  ;  just  for  information,  }rou  know, 
then  I  shall  have  something  to  go  upon.  I  want  to 
have  a  feasible  plan  all  ready,  before  I  speak  to 
father.  There's  nothing  so  convincing  to  business 
men  as  facts,  you  know." 

Polly  could  not  help  smiling  at  Tom's  new  tone,  it 
seemed  so  strange  to  hear  him  talking  about  anything 
but  horses  and  tailors,  dancing  and  girls.  She  liked 
it,  however,  as  much  as  she  did  the  sober  expression 
of  his  face,  and  the  way  he  had  lately  of  swinging  his 
arms  about,  as  if  he  wanted  to  do  something  ener 
getic  with  them. 

"  That  will  be  wise.  Do  you  think  your  father  will 
like  this  plan  ?  " 

"  Pretty  sure  he  will.  Yesterday,  when  I  told  him 
I  must  go  at  something  right  off,  he  said,  'Anything 
honest,  Tom,  and  don't  forget  that  your  father  began 
the  world  as  a  shop-bo}^'  You  knew  that,  did  n't  you  ?" 

"  Yes,  he  told  me  the  story  once,  and  I  always  liked 
to  hear  it,  because  it  was  pleasant  to  see  how  well  he 
had  succeeded." 

"  I  never  did  like  the  story,  a  little  bit  ashamed, 
I'm  afraid  ;  but  when  we  talked  it  over  last  night, 
it  struck  me  in  a  new  light,  and  I  understood  why 
father  took  the  failure  so  well,  and  seems  so  contented 
with  this  poorish  place.  It  is  only  beginning  again,  he 
says  ;  and  having  worked  his  way  up  once,  he  feels  as 
if  he  could  again.  I  declare  to  you,  Polly,  that  eort 


346  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

of  confidence  in  himself,  and  energy  and  courage  in 
a  man  of  his  years,  makes  me  love  and  respect  the 
dear  old  gentleman  as  I  never  did  before." 

"  I  'm  so  glad  to  hear  you  say  that,  Tom  !  I  've  some 
times  thought  you  didn't  quite  appreciate  your  father, 
any  more  than  he  knew  how  much  of  a  man  you 
were." 

"  Never  was  till  to-day,  you  know,"  said  Tom,  laugh 
ing,  yet  looking  as  if  he  felt  the  dignity  of  his  one  and 
twenty  years.  "  Odd,  is  n't  it,  how  people  live  together 
ever  so  long,  and  don't  seem  to  find  one  another  out, 
till  something  comes  to  do  it  for  them.  Perhaps  this 
smash-up  was  sent  to  introduce  me  to  my  own  father." 

"  There 's  philosophy  for  you,"  said  Polly,  smiling, 
even  while  she  felt  as  if  adversity  was  going  to  do 
more  for  Tom  than  years  of  prosperity. 

They  both  sat  quiet  for  a  minute,  Polly  in  the  big 
chair  looking  at  him  with  a  new  respect  in  her  ej^es, 
Tom  on  the  stool  near  by  slowty  tearing  up  a  folded 
paper  he  had  absently  taken  from  the  floor  while  he 
talked. 

"  Did  this  surprise  you?  "  he  asked,  as  a  little  white 
shower  fluttered  from  his  hands. 

"No." 

"  Well,  it  did  me  ;  for  you  know  as  soon  as  we  came 
to  grief  I  offered  to  release  Trix  from  the  engage 
ment,  and  she  would  n't  let  me,"  continued  Tom,  as  if, 
having  begun  the  subject,  he  wished  to  explain  it 
thoroughly. 

"  That  surprised  me,"  said  Polly. 

"  So  it  did  me,  for  Fan  always  insisted  it  was  the 
money  and  not  the  man  she  cared  for.  Her  first 


Playing   Grandmother.  347 

answer  pleased  me  very  much,  for  I  did  n't  expect  it, 
and  nothing  touches  a  fellow  more  than  to  have  a 
woman  stand  by  him  through  thick  and  thin." 

"  She  don't  seem  to  have  done  it." 

"  Fan  was  right.  Trix  only  waited  to  see  how  bad 
things  really  were,  or  rather  her  mother  did.  She 's  as 
cool,  hard,  and  worldly-minded  an  old  soul  as  I  ever 
saw,  and  Trix  is  bound  to  obey.  She  gets  round  it 
very  neatly  in  her  note,  *  won't  be  a  burden,'  4  will 
sacrifice  her  hopes,'  *  and  always  remain  my  warm 
friend,'  but  the  truth  is,  Tom  Shaw  rich  was  worth 
making  much  of,  but  Tom  Shaw  poor  is  in  the  way, 
and  may  go  to  the  devil  as  fast  as  he  likes." 

"  Well,  he  is  n't  going ! "  cried  Polly,  defiantly,  for 
her  wrath  burned  hotly  against  Trix,  though  she 
blessed  her  for  setting  the  bondman  free. 

"  Came  within  an  ace  of  it,"  muttered  Tom  to  him 
self;  adding  aloud,  in  a  tone  of  calm  resignation  that 
assured  Polly  his  heart  would  not  be  broken  though 
his  engagement  was,  — 

"  It  never  rains  but  it  pours,  'specially  in  hard  times  ; 
but  when  a  man  is  down,  a  rap  or  two  more  don't 
matter  much,  I  suppose.  Its  the  first  blow  that  hurts 
most." 

"  Glad  to  see  you  take  the  last  blow  so  well." 
There  was  an  ironical  little  twang  to  that  speech,  and 
Polly  could  n't  help  it.  Tom  colored  up  and  looked 
hurt  for  a  minute,  then  seemed  to  right  himself  with 
a  shrug,  and  said,  in  his  outspoken  way,  — 

"  To  tell  the  honest  truth,  Polly,  it  was  n't  a  very 
hard  one.  I  've  had  a  feeling  for  some  time  that  Trix 
and  I  were  not  suited  to  one  another,  and  it  might  be 


348  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

wiser  to  stop  short.  But  she  did  n't  or  would  n't  see 
it ;  and  I  was  n't  going  to  back  out,  and  leave  her  to 
wear  any  more  willows,  so  here  we  are.  I  don't  bear 
malice,  but  hope  she  '11  do  better,  and  not  be  disap 
pointed  again,  upon  my  word  I  do." 

"  That 's  very  good  of  you,  quite  Sydneyesque  and 
noble,"  said  Polly,  feeling  rather  ill  at  ease,  and 
wishing  she  could  hide  herself  behind  a  cap  apd  specta 
cles,  it  she  was  to  play  Grandma  to  this  confiding 
youth. 

"  It  will  be  all  plain  sailing  for  Syd,  I  fancy," 
observed  Tom,  getting  up  as  if  the  littlo  cricket 
suddenly  ceased  to  be  comfortable. 

"  I  hope  so,"  murmured  Polly,  wondering  wliat  was 
coming  next. 

"  He  deserves  the  very  best  of  everything,  and  I 
pray  the  Lord  he  may  get  it,"  added  Tom,  poking 
the  fire  in  a  destructive  manner. 

Polly  made  no  answer,  fearing  to  say  too  much,  for 
she  knew  Fan  had  made  no  confidant  of  Tom,  and  ske 
guarded  her  friend's  secret  as  jealously  as  her  own. 

"  You  '11  write  to  Ned  to-morrow,  will  you  ?  I  '11  take 
anything  he 's  got,  for  I  want  to  be  off,"  said  Tom, 
casting  down  the  poker,  and  turning  round  with  » 
resolute  air  which  was  lost  on  Polly,  who  sat  twirling 
the  rose  that  had  fallen  into  her  lap. 

"  I  '11  write  to-night.  Would  you  like  me  to  tel) 
the  girls  about  Trix  and  Sydney  ?  "  she  asked  as  she 
rose,  feeling  that  the  council  was  over. 

"  I  wish  you  would.  I  don't  know  how  to  thank 
you  for  all  you  've  done  for  me ;  I  wish  to  heaven  ] 
did,"  said  Tom,  holding  out  his  hand  with  a  look  that 


Playing   Grandmother.  349 

Polly  thought  a  great  deal  too  grateful  for  the  littfe 
she  had  done. 

As  she  gave  him  her  hand,  and  looked  up  at  him 
with  those  confiding  eyes  of  hers,  Tom's  gratitude 
seemed  to  fly  to  his  head,  for,  without  the  slightest 
warning,  he  stooped  down  and  kissed  her,  —  a  pro 
ceeding  which  startled  Polly  so  that  he  recovered 
himself  at  once,  and  retreated  into  his  den  with  the 
incoherent  apology, — 

44 1  beg  pardon  —  could  n't  help  it  —  grandma 
always  let  me  on  my  birthday." 

While  Polly  took  refuge  up-stairs,  forgetting  all 
about  Fan,  as  she  sat  in  the  dark  with  her  face  hidden, 
wondering  why  she  was  n't  very  angry,  and  resolving 
never  again  to  indulge  in  the  delightful  but  dangerous 
pastime  of  playing  grandmother. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 
THE  WOMAN  WHO  DID  NOT  DARE. 

"HOLLY  wrote  enthusiastically,  Ned  answered  satis- 
-*-  factorily,  and  after  much  corresponding,  talking, 
and  planning,  it  was  decided  that  Tom  should  go 
West.  Never  mind  what  the  business  was  ;  it  suffices 
to  say  that  it  was  a  good  beginning  for  a  young  man 
like  Tom,  who,  having  been  born  and  bred  in  the 
most  conservative  class  of  the  most  conceited  city  in 
New  England,  needed  just  the  healthy,  hearty,  social 
influences  of  the  West  to  widen  his  views  and  make  a 
man  of  him. 

Of  course  there  was  much  lamentation  among  the 
women,  but  every  one  felt  it  was  the  best  thing  for 
him  ;  so,  while  they  sighed,  they  sewed,  packed  vis 
ions  of  a  brilliant  future  away  with  his  new  pocket 
handkerchiefs,  and  rejoiced  that  the  way  was  open  be 
fore  him  even  in  the  act  of  bedewing  his  boots  with 
tears.  Sydney  stood  by  him  to  the  last,  "  like  a  man 
and  a  brother,"  (which  expression  of  Tom's  gave 
Fanny  infinite  satisfaction,)  and  Will  felt  entirely 
consoled  for  Ned's  disappointment  at  his  refusal  to 
go  and  join  him,  since  Tom  was  to  take  the  place  Ned 
had  kept  for  him. 


T/ie  Woman  who  did  not  Dare.      351 

Fortunately  every  one  was  so  busy  with  the  neces 
sary  preparations  that  there  was  no  time  for  romance 
of  any  sort,  and  the  four  young  people  worked  jO- 
gether  as  soberly  and  sensibly  as  if  all  sorts  of  emo 
tions  were  not  bottled  up  in  their  respective  hearts. 
But  in  spite  of  the  silence,  the  work,  and  the  hurry,  I 
think  they  came  to  know  one  another  better  in  that 
busy  little  space  of  time  than  in  all  the  years  that  had 
gone  before,  for  the  best  and  bravest  in  each  was  up 
and  stirring,  and  the  small  house  was  as  full  of  the 
magnetism  of  love  and  friendship,  self-sacrifice  and 
enthusiasm,  as  the  world  outside  was  full  of  spring 
sunshine  and  enchantment.  Pity  that  the  end  should 
come  so  soon  ;  but  the  hour  did  its  work  and  went  its 
way,  leaving  a  clearer  atmosphere  behind,  though  the 
young  folks  did  not  see  it  then,  for  their  eyes  were 
dim  because  of  the  partings  that  must  be. 

Tom  was  off  to  the  West ;  Polly  went  home  for 
the  summer;  Maud  was  taken  to  the  seaside  with 
Belle ;  and  Fanny  left  alone  to  wrestle  with  house 
keeping,  "  help,"  and  heartache.  If  it  had  not  been 
for  two  things,  I  fear  she  never  would  have  stood  a 
summer  in  town  ;  but  Sydney  often  called,  till  his  va 
cation  came,  and  a  voluminous  correspondence  with 
Polly  beguiled  the  long  days.  Tom  wrote  once  a 
week  to  his  mother,  but  the  letters  were  short  and  not 
very  satisfactory,  for  men  never  do  tell  the  interest 
ing  little  things  that  women  best  like  to  hear.  Fanny 
forwarded  her  bits  of  news  to  Polly  ;  Polly  sent  back 
all  the  extracts  from  Ned's  letters  concerning  Tom, 
and  by  putting  the  two  reports  together,  they  gained 
the  comfortable  assurance  that  Tom  was  well,  in  good 


352  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

spirits,  hard  at  work,  and  intent  on  coming  out  strong 
in  spite  of  all  obstacles. 

Polly  had  a  quiet  summer  at  home,  resting  and 
getting  ready  in  mind  and  body  for  another  winter's 
work,  for  in  the  autumn  she  tried  her  plan  again,  to 
the  satisfaction  of  her  pupils,  and  the  great  joy  of 
her  friends.  She  never  said  much  of  herself  in  her 
letters,  and  Fanny's  first  exclamation  when  the}'  met 
again,  was  an  anxious  — 

"  Why,  Polly,  dear  I  have  you  been  sick,  and  never 
told  me?" 

"  No,  I  'm  only  tired  ;  had  a  good  deal  to  do  lately, 
and  the  dull  weather  makes  me  just  a  trifle  blue.  I 
shall  soon  brighten  up  when  I  get  to  my  work  again," 
answered  Polly,  bustling  about  to  put  away  her  tfiings. 

"  You  don't  look  a  bit  natural ;  what  have  you  been 
doing  to  your  precious  little  self?  "  persisted  Fanny, 
troubled  by  the  change,  yet  finding  it  hard  to  say 
wherein  it  lay. 

Polly  did  not  look  sick,  though  her  cheeks  were 
thinner,  and  her  color  paler  than  formerly,  but  she 
seemed  spiritless,  and  there  was  a  tired  look  in  her 
eyes,  that  went  to  Fanny's  heart. 

"  I'm  all  right  enough,  as  you  '11  see  when  I  'm  in 
order.  I  'm  proper  glad  to  find  you  looking  so  well 
and  happy.  Does  all  go  smoothly,  Fan  ?  "  asked  Polly, 
beginning  to  brush  her  hair  industriously. 

"  Answer  me  one  question  first,"  said  Fanny,  look 
ing  as  if  a  sudden  fear  had  come  over  her.  "  Tell  me, 
truly,  have  you.  never  repented  of  your  hint  to  Syd 


ney?" 


Never!"  cried  Polly,  throwing  back  the  brown 


The  Woman  who  did  not  Dare.      353 

veil  behind  which  she  had  half  hidden  her  face  at 
first. 

"  On  your  honor,  as  an  honest  girl  ? " 

"  On  my  honor,  as  anything  you  please.  Why  do 
you  suspect  me  of  it  ?  "  demanded  Polly,  almost  an 
grily. 

"  Because  something  is  wrong  with  you.  It 's  no 
use  to  denjr  it,  for  you  've  got  the  look  I  used  to  see  in 
that  very  glass  on  my  own  face  when  I  thought  he 
cared  for  you.  Forgive  me,  Polly,  but  I  can't  help 
saying  it,  for  it  is  there,  and  I  want  to  be  as  true  to 
you  as  you  were  to  me,  if  I  can." 

Fanny's  face  was  full  of  agitation,  and  she  spoke 
fast  and  frankly,  for  she  was  trying  to  be  generous,  and 
found  it  very  hard.  Polly  understood  now,  and  put 
her  fear  at  rest  by  saying,  almost  passionately,  — 

"I  tell  you  I  don't  love  him !  If  he  was  the  only 
man  in  the  world,  I  would  n't  marry  him,  because  I  — 
don't  want  to." 

The  last  three  words  were  added  in  a  different  tone, 
for  Polly  had  checked  herself  there  with  a  half  fright 
ened  look,  and  turned  away  to  hide  her  face  behind 
her  hair  again. 

"  Then  if  it 's  not  him,  it 's  some  one  else.  You  've 
got  a  secret,  Polly,  and  I  should  think  you  might  tell 
it,  as  you  know  mine,"  said  Fann}r,  unable  to  rest  till 
everything  was  told,  for  Polly's  manner  troubled  her. 

There  was  no  answer  to  her  question,  but  she  was 
satisfied,  and  putting  her  arm  round  her  friend,  she 
said,  in  her  most  persuasive  tone, — 

"  My  precious  Polly,  do  I  know  him  ?  " 

"  You  have  seen  him." 
as 


354  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

"And  is  he  very  wise,  good,  and  splendid,  dear?" 

"  No." 

"  He  ought  to  be  if  you  love  him.  I  hope  he  is  n't 
bad  ?  "  cried  Fan,  anxiously,  still  holding  Polly,  who 
kept  her  head  obstinately  turned. 

"  I  'm  suited,  that 's  enough." 

"  Oh,  please  just  tell  me  one  thing  more  ;  don't  he 
love  back  again  ?  " 

"  No.  Now  don't  say  another  word ;  I  can't  bear 
it ! "  and  Polly  drew  herself  away,  as  she  spoke  in  a 
desperate  sort  of  tone. 

"  I  won't ;  but  now  I  'm  not  afraid  to  tell  you  that 
I  think,  I  hope,  I  do  believe  that  Sydney  cares  a  little 
for  me.  He 's  been  very  kind  to  us  all,  and  lately  he 
has  seemed  to  like  to  see  me  always  when  he  comes, 
and  miss  me  if  I  'm  gone.  I  did  n't  dare  to  hope  any 
thing,  till  papa  observed  something  in  his  manner,  and 
teased  me  about  it.  I  try  not  to  deceive  myself,  but 
it  does  seem  as  if  there  was  a  chance  of  happiness 
for  me." 

"Thank  heaven  for  that!"  cried  Polly,  with  the 
heartiest  satisfaction  in  her  voice.  "  Now  come  and 
tell  me  all  about  it,"  she  added,  sitting  down  on  the 
couch  with  the  air  of  one  who  has  escaped  a  great  peril. 

"I've  got  some  notes  and  things  I  want  to  ask 
your  opinion  about,  if  they  really  mean  anything,  you 
know,"  said  Fanny,  getting  out  a  bundle  of  papers 
from  the  inmost  recesses  of  her  desk.  "  There 's  a 
photograph  of  Tom,  came  in  his  last  letter ;  good, 
is  n't  it?  He  looks  older,  but  that 's  the  beard  and  the 
rough  coat,  I  suppose.  Dear  old  fellow,  he  is  doing 
so  well,  I  really  begin  to  feel  quite  proud  of  him." 


The  Woman  who  did  not  Dare.      355 

Fan  tossed  her  the  photograph,  and  went  on  rum 
maging  for  a  certain  note.  She  did  not  see  Polly 
catch  up  the  picture  and  look  at  it  with  hungry  eyes, 
but  she  did  hear  something  in  the  low  tone  in  which 
Polly  said,  — 

"  It  don't  do  him  justice,"  and  glancing  over  her 
bhoulder  Fan's  quick  eye  caught  a  glimpse  of  the 
truth,  though  Polly  was  half  turned  away  from  her. 
Without  stopping  to  think,  Fan  dropped  her  letters, 
took  Polly  by  the  shoulders,  and  cried  in  a  tone  lull  of 
astonishment,  — 

"  Polly,  is  it  Tom?" 

Poor  Polly  was  so  taken  by  surprise,  that  she  had 
not  a  word  to  say.  None  were  needed ;  her  telltale 
face  answered  for  her,  as  well  as  the  impulse  which 
made  her  hide  her  head  in  the  sofa  cushion,  like  a 
foolish  ostrich  when  the  hunters  are  after  it. 

"  Oh,  Polly,  I  am  so  glad  !  I  never  thought  of  it, 
—  you  are  so  good,  and  he  's  such  a  wild  boy,  —  I 
can't  believe  it,  —  but  it  is  so  dear  of  you  to  care  for 
him." 

"Couldn't  help  it  —  tried  not  to  —  but  it  was  so 
hard  —  you  know,  Fan,  you  know,"  said  a  stifled  voice 
from  the  depths  of  the  very  fuzzy  cushion  which  Tom 
had  once  condemned. 

The  last  words,  and  the  appealing  hand  outstretched 
to  her,  told  Fanny  the  secret  of  her  friend's  tender 
sympathy  for  her  own  love  troubles,  and  seemed  so 
pathetic,  that  she  took  Polly  in  her  arms,  and  cried 
over  her,  in  the  fond,  foolisti  way  girls  have  of  doing 
when  their  hearts  are  full,  and  tears  can  say  more 
than  tongues.  The  silence  never  lasts  long,  however, 


356  An   O Id-Fashioned  Girl 

for  the  feminine  desire  to  "  talk  it  over"  usually  gets 
the  better  of  the  deepest  emotion.  So  presently  the 
girls  were  hard  at  it,  Polly  very  humble  and  down 
cast,  Fanny  excited,  and  overflowing  with  curiosity 
and  delight. 

u  Really  my  sister  !  You  dear  thing,  how  heavenly 
that  will  be,"  she  cried. 

"  It  never  will  be,"  answered  Polly,  in  a  tone  of 
calm  despair. 

"  What  will  prevent  it?" 

"  Maria  Bailey,"  was  the  tragic  reply. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  Is  she  the  Western  girl  ?  she 
shan't  have  Tom  ;  I  '11  kill  her  first ! " 

"  Too  late,  let  me  tell  you  —  is  that  door  shut,  and 
Maud  safe?" 

Fanny  reconnoitred,  and  returning  listened  breath 
lessly,  while  Polly  poured  into  her  ear  the  bitter 
secret  which  was  preying  on  her  soul. 

"  Has  n't  he  mentioned  Maria  in  his  letters?" 

"  Once  or  twice,  but  sort  of  jokingly,  and  I  thought 
it  was  only  some  little  flirtation.  He  can't  have  time 
for  much  of  that  fun,  he  's  so  bus}r." 

"  Ned  writes  good,  gossipy  letters,  —  I  taught  him 
how,  —  and  he  tells  me  all  that 's  going  on.  When  he  'd 
spoken  of  this  girl  several  times  (they  board  with 
her  mother,  you  know),  I  asked  about  her,  quite  care 
lessly,  and  he  told  me  she  was  pretty,  good,  and  well 
educated,  and  he  thought  Tom  was  rather  smitten. 
That  was  a  blow ;  for  you  see,  Fan,  since  Trix  broke 
the  engagement,  and  it  was  n't  wrong  to  think  of 
Tom,  I  let  myself  hope,  just  a  little,  and  was  so 
happy !  Now  I  must  give  it  up,  and  now  I  see  how 


The  Woman  who  did  not  Dare.      357 

much  I  hoped,  and  what  a  dreadful  loss  it 's  going 
to  be." 

Two  great  tears  rolled  down  Polly's  cheeks,  and 
Fanny  wiped  them  away,  feeling  an  intense  desire  to 
go  West  by  the  next  train,  wither  Maria  Bailey  with 
a  single  look,  and  bring  Tom  back  as  a  gift  to  Polly. 

u  It  was  so  stupid  of  me  not  to  guess  before.  But 
you  see  Tom  always  seems  so  like  a  boy,  and  you  are 
more  womanly  for  your  age  than  any  girl  I  know,  so 
I  never  thought  of  your  caring  for  him  in  that  way. 
I  knew  you  were  very  good  to  him,  you  are  to  every 
one,  my  precious ;  and  I  knew  that  he  was  fond  of 
you  as  he  is  of  rne,  fonder  if  anything,  because  he 
thinks  you  are  perfect ;  but  still  I  never  dreamed  of 
his  loving  you  more  than  a  dear  friend." 

"  He  does  n't,"  sighed  Polly. 

"  Well,  he  ought ;  and  if  I  could  get  hold  of  him, 
he  should ! " 

Polly  clutched  Fan  at  that,  and  held  her  tight,  say 
ing,  sternly, — 

"  If  you  ever  breathe  a  word,  drop  a  hint,  look  a 
look  that  will  tell  him  or  any  one  else  about  me,  I'll  — 
yes,  as  sure  as  my  name  is  Mary  Milton  —  I'll  pro 
claim  from  the  housetops  that  you  like  Ar ."  Polly 

got  no  further,  for  Fan's  hand  was  on  her  mouth, 
and  Fan's  alarmed  voice  vehemently  protested,  — 

"  I  won't !  I  promise  solemnly  I'll  never  say  a  word 
to  a  mortal  creature.  Don't  be  so  fierce,  Polly  ;  you 
quite  frighten  me." 

"  It 's  bad  enough  to  love  some  one  who  don't  love 
you,  but  to  have  them  told  of  it  is  perfectly  awful. 
It  makes  me  wild  just  to  think  of  it.  Oh,  Fan,  I  'm 


358  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

getting  so  ill-tempered  and  envious  and  wicked,  I 
don't  know  what  will  happen  to  me." 

"  I  'm  not  afraid  for  you,  my  dear,  and  I  do  believe 
things  will  go  right,  because  you  are  so  good  to  every 
one.  How  Tom  could  help  adoring  }^ou  I  don't  see. 
I  know  he  would  if  he  had  stayed  at  home  longer 
after  he  got  rid  of  Trix.  It  would  be  the  making  of 
him ;  but  though  he  is  my  brother,  I  don't  think  he  s 
good  enough  for  you,  Polly,  and  I  don't  quite  see  how 
you  can  care  for  him  so  much,  when  you  might  have 
had  a  person  so  infinitely  superior." 

"  I  don't  want  a  '  superior  '  person  ;  he  'd  tire  me  if 
he  was  like  A.  S.  Besides,  I  do  think  Tom  is  superior 
to  him  in  many  things.  Well,  you  need  n't  stare  ;  I 
know  he  is,  or  will  be.  He  's  so  different,  and  ver  f 
young,  and  has  lots  of  faults,  I  know,  but  I  like  him 
all  the  better  for  it,  and  he  's  honest  and  brave,  and 
has  got  a  big,  warm  heart,  and  I  'd  rather  have  him 
care  for  me  than  the  wisest,  best,  most  accomplished 
man  in  the  world,  simply  because  I  love  him  ! " 

If  Tom  could  only  have  seen  Polly's  face  when  she 
said  that!  It  was  so  tender,  earnest,  and  defiant, 
that  Fanny  forgot  the  defence  of  her  own  lover,  in 
admiration  of  Polly's  loyalty  to  hers  ;  for  this  faithful, 
all-absorbing  love  was  a  new  revelation  to  Fanny, 
who  was  used  to  hearing  her  friends  boast  of  two  or 
three  lovers  a  year,  and  calculate  their  respective 
values,  with  almost  as  much  coolness  as  the  young 
men  discussed  the  fortunes  of  the  girls  they  wished, 
but  "  could  not  afford  to  marry."  She  had  thought 
her  love  for  Sydney  very  romantic,  because  she  did 
not  really  care  whether  he  was  rich  or  poor,  though 


The  Woman  who  did  not  Dare.      359 

she  never  dared  to  say  so,  even  to  Polly,  for  fear  of 
being  laughed  at.  She  began  to  see  now  what  true 
love  was,  and  to  feel  that  the  sentiment  which  she 
could  not  conquer  was  a  treasure  to  be  accepted  with 
reverence,  and  cherished  with  devotion. 

"  I  don't  know  when  I  began  to  love  Tom,  but  I 
found  out  that  I  did  last  winter,  and  was  as  much 
surprised  as  you  are,"  continued  Polly,  as  if  glad  to 
unburden  her  heart.  "  I  did  n't  approve  of  him  at  all ; 
I  thought  he  was  extravagant,  reckless,  and  dandified. 
I  was  very  much  disappointed  -when  he  chose  Trix, 
and  the  more  I  thought  and  saw  of  it,  the  worse  I 
felt,  for  Tom  was  too  good  for  her,  and  I  hated  to  see 
her  do  so  little  for  him,  when  she  might  have  done  so 
much ;  because  he  is  one  of  the  men  who  can  be  led 
by  their  affections,  and  the  woman  he  marries  can 
make  or  mar  him." 

"  That 's  true  ! "  cried  Fan,  as  Polly  paused  to  look 
at  the  picture,  which  appeared  to  regard  her  with  a 
grave,  steady  look,  which  seemed  rather  to  belie  her 
assertions. 

"  I  don't  mean  that  he  's  weak  or  bad.  If  he  was,  I 
should  hate  him ;  but  he  does  need  some  one  to  love 
him  very  much,  and  make  him  happy,  as  a  good 
woman  best  knows  how,"  said  Polly,  as  if  answering 
the  mute  language  of  Tom's  face.  "  I  hope  Maria 
Bailey  is  all  he  thinks  her,"  she  added,  softly,  "  for  I 
could  n't  bear  to  have  him  disappointed  again." 

"  I  dare  say  he  don't  care  a  fig  for  her,  and  you  are 
only  borrowing  trouble.  What  do  you  say  Ned  an 
swered  when  you  asked  about  this  inconvenient  girl?" 
said  Fanny,  turning  hopeful  all  at  once. 


360  An  Old- Fashioned  Girl. 

Polly  repeated  it,  and  added, "  Tasked  him  in  another 
letter  if  he  did  n't  admire  Miss  B.  as  much  as  Tom,  and 
he  wrote  back  that  she  was  '  a  nice  girl,  but  he  had  no 
time  for  nonsense,  and  I  need  n't  get  my  white  kids 
ready  for  some  years  yet,  unless  to  dance  at  Tom's 
wedding.'  Since  then  he  hasn't  mentioned  Maria, 
so  I  was  sure  there  was  something  serious  going  on, 
and  being  in  Tom's  confidence,  he  kept  quiet." 

"  It  does  look  bad.  Suppose  /  say  a  word  to  Tom, 
just  inquire  after  his  heart  in  a  general  wa}^  you 
know,  and  give  him  a  chance  to  tell  me,  if  there  is 
anything  to  tell." 

"  I  'm  willing ;  but  you  must  let  me  see  the  letter. 
I  can't  trust  you  not  to  hint  or  say  too  much." 

"You  shall.  I'll  keep  my  promise  in  spite  of 
everything,  but  it  will  be  hard  to  see  things  going 
wrong  when  a  word  would  set  it  right." 

"  You  know  what  will  happen  if  you  do,"  and  Polly 
looked  so  threatening  that  Fan  trembled  before  her, 
discovering  that  the  gentlest  girls  when  roused  are 
more  impressive  than  any  shrew ;  for  even  turtle 
doves  peck  gallantly  to  defend  their  nests. 

"If  it  is  true  about  Maria,  what  shall  we  do  ?  "  said 
Fanny,  after  a  pause. 

"  Bear  it ;  people  always  do  bear  things,  some 
how,"  answered  Polly,  looking  as  if  sentence  had  been 
passed  upon  her. 

"  But  if  it  is  n't?"  cried  Fan,  unable  to  endure  the 
sight. 

u  Then  I  shall  wait."  And  Polly's  face  changed  so 
beautifully  that  Fan  hugged  her  on  the  spot,  fervently 
wishing  that  Maria  Bailey  never  had  been  born. 


The  Woman  who  did  not  Dare.      36 1 

Then  the  conversation  turned  to  lover  number  two, 
and  after  a  long  confabulation,  Polly  gave  it  as  her 
firm  belief  that  A.  S.  had  forgotten  M.  M.,  and  was 
rapidly  finding  consolation  in  the  regard  of  F.  S. 
With  this  satisfactory  decision  the  council  ended, 
after  the  ratification  of  a  Loyal  League,  by  which  the 
friends  pledged  themselves  to  stand  stanchly  by  one 
another,  through  the  trials  of  the  coming  year. 

It  was  a  very  different  winter  from  the  last  for  both 
the  girls.  Fanny  applied  herself  to  her  duties  with 
redoubled  ardor,  for  "A.  8."  was  a  domestic  man,  and 
admired  housewifely  accomplishments.  If  Fanny 
wanted  to  show  him  what  she  could  do  toward  making 
a  pleasant  home,  she  certainly  succeeded  better  than 
she  suspected,  for  in  spite  of  many  failures  and  dis 
couragements  behind  the  scenes,  the  little  house 
became  a  most  attractive  place,  to  Mr.  Sydney  at 
least,  for  he  was  more  the  house-friend  than  ever,  and 
seemed  determined  to  prove  that  change  of  fortune 
made  no  difference  to  him. 

Fanny  had  been  afraid  that  Polly's  return  might 
endanger  her  hopes,  but  Sydney  met  Polly  with  the 
old  friendliness,  and  very  soon  convinced  her  that  the 
nipping  in  the  bud  process  had  been  effectual,  for 
being  taken  early,  the  sprouting  affection  had  died 
easy,  and  left  room  for  an  older  friendship  to  blossom 
into  a  happier  love. 

Fanny  seemed  glad  of  this,  and  Polly  soon  set  her 
heart  at  rest  by  proving  that  she  had  no  wish  to  try 
her  power.  She  kept  much  at  home  when  the  day's 
work  was  done,  finding  it  pleasanter  to  sit  dreaming 
over  book  or  sewing  alone,  than  to  exert  herself  even 
to  #0  to  the  Sltaws'. 


362  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

"  Fan  don't  need  me,  and  Sydney  don't  care  wheth 
er  I  come  or  not,  so  I  '11  keep  out  of  the  way,"  she 
would  say,  as  if  to  excuse  her  seeming  indolence. 

Polly  was  not  at  all  like  herself  that  winter,  and 
those  nearest  to  her  saw  and  wondered  at  it  most. 
Will  got  very  anxious,  she  was  so  q'liet,  pale,  and 
spiritless,  and  distracted  poor  Polly  by  his  affectionate 
stupidity,  till  she  completed  his  bewilderment  by 
getting  cross  and  scolding  him.  So  he  consoled  him 
self  with  Maud,  who,  now  being  in  her  teens,  assumed 
dignified  airs,  and  ordered  him  about  in  a  style  that 
afforded  him  continued  amusement  and  employment. 

Western  news  continued  vague,  for  Fan's  general 
inquiries  produced  only  provokingly  unsatisfactory 
replies  from  Tom,  who  sang  the  praises  of  "  the  beauti 
ful  Miss  Bailey,"  and  professed  to  be  consumed  by  a 
hopeless  passion  for  somebody,  in  such  half-comic, 
half-tragic  terms,  that  the  girls  could  not  decide 
whether  it  was  "  all  that  boy's  mischief,"  or  only  a 
cloak  to  hide  the  dreadful  truth. 

"  We'll  have  it  out  of  him,  when  he  comes  home  in 
the  spring,"  said  Fanny  to  Polly,  as  they  compared 
the  letters  of  their  brothers,  and  agreed  that  "  men 
were  the  most  uncommunicative  and  provoking  animala 
under  the  sun."  For  Ned  was  so  absorbed  in  business 
that  he  ignored  the  whole  Bailey  question,  and  left 
them  in  utter  darkness. 

Hunger  of  any  sort  is  a  hard  thing  to  bear,  espe 
cially  when  the  sufferer  has  a  youthful  appetite,  and 
Polly  was  kept  on  such  a  short  allowance  of  happiness 
for  six  months,  that  she  got  quite  thin  and  interesting  ; 
and  often,  when  she  saw  how  big  her  eyes  were  getting, 


The  Woman  who  did  not  Dare.      363 

and  how  plainly  the  veins  on  her  temples  showed, 
indulged  the  pensive  thought  that  'perhaps  spring 
dandelions  might  blossom  o'er  her  grave.  She  had 
no  intention  of  dying  till  Tom's  visit  was  over,  how 
ever,  and  as  the  time  drew  near,  she  went  through 
such  alternations  of  hope  and  fear,  and  lived  in  such  a 
state  of  feverish  excitement,  that  spirits  and  color 
came  back,  and  she  saw  that  the  interesting  pallor 
she  had  counted  on  would  be  an  entire  failure. 

May  came  at  last,  and  with  it  a  burst  of  sunshine 
which  cheered  even  poor  Poll/s  much-enduring  heart. 
Fanny  came  walking  in  upon  her  one  day,  looking  as 
if  she  brought  tidings  of  such  great  joy  that  she  hardly 
knew  how  to  tell  them. 

"Prepare  yourself — somebody  is  engaged!"  she 
said,  in  a  solemn  tone,  that  made  Polly  put  up  her 
hand  as  if  to  ward  off  an  expected  blow.  "  No, 
don't  look  like  that,  my  poor  dear ;  it  is  n't  Tom, 
it's— I!" 

Of  course  there  was  a  rapture,  followed  by  one  of 
the  deliciously  confidential  talks  which  bosom  friends 
enjoy,  interspersed  with  tears  and  kisses,  smiles  and 
sighs. 

"  Oh,  Polly,  though  I  've  waited  and  hoped  so  long 
I  could  n't  believe  it  when  it  came,  and  don't  deserve 
it ;  but  I  will !  for  the  knowledge  that  he  loves  me 
seems  to  make  everything  possible,"  said  Fanny,  with 
an  expression  which  made  her  really  beautiful,  for  the 
first  time  in  her  life. 

"  You  happy  girl !  "  sighed  Polly,  then  smiled  and 
added,  "  I  think  you  deserve  all  that 's  come  to  you, 
for  you  have  truly  tried  to  be  worthy  of  it,  and 


364  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

whether  it  ever  came  or  not  that  would  have  been  a 
thing  to  be  proud  of." 

"  He  says  that  is  what  made  him  love  me,"  an 
swered  Fanny,  never  calling  her  lover  by  his  name, 
but  making  the  little  personal  pronoun  a  very  sweet 
word  by  the  tone  in  which  she  uttered  it.  "  He  was 
disappointed  in  me  last  year,  he  told  me,  but  you 
said  good  things  about  me,  and  though  he  did  n't  care 
much  then,  yet,  when  he  lost  you,  and  came  back  to 
me,  he  found  that  you  were  not  altogether  mistaken, 
and  he  has  watched  me  all  this  winter,  learning  to  re 
spect  and  love  me  better  every  day.  Oh,  Polly,  when 
he  said  that,  I  could  n't  bear  it,  because  in  spite  of  all 
iny  trying,  I  'm  still  so  weak  and  poor  and  silly." 

"  We  don't  think  so  ;  and  I  know  you  '11  be  all  he 
hopes  to  find  you,  for  he 's  just  the  husband  you  ought 
to  have." 

"  Thank  you  all  the  more,  then,  for  not  keeping  him 
yourself,"  said  Fanny,  laughing  the  old  blithe  laugh 
again. 

"That  was  only  a  slight  aberration  of  his  ;  he  knew 
better  all  the  time.  It  was  your  white  cloak  and  my 
idiotic  behavior  the  night  we  went  to  the  opera  that 
put  the  idea  into  his  head,"  said  Polly,  feeling  as  if 
the  events  of  that  evening  had  happened  some  twenty 
years  ago,  when  she  was  a  giddy  young  thing,  fond  of 
gay  bonnets  and  girlish  pranks. 

"I'm  not  going  to  tell  Tom  a  word  about  it,  but 
keep  it  for  a  surprise  till  he  comes.  He  will  be  here 
next  week,  and  then  we  '11  have  a  grand  clearing  up  of 
mysteries,"  said  Fan,  evidently  feeling  that  the  mil 
lennium  was  at  hand. 


The  Woman  who  did  not  Dare.      365 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Polly,  as  her  heart  fluttered  and 
then  sunk,  for  this  was  a  case  where  she  could  do 
nothing  but  hope,  and  keep  her  hands  busy  with  Will's 
new  set  of  shirts. 

There  is  a  good  deal  more  of  this  sort  of  silent  suf 
fering  than  the  world  suspects,  for  the  "  women  who 
dare  "  are  few,  the  women  who  "  stand  and  wait "  are 
many.  But  if  work-baskets  were  gifted  with  powers 
of  speech,  they  could  tell  stories  more  true  and  tender 
than  any  we  read.  For  women  often  sew  the  tragedy 
or  comedy  of  life  into  their  work  as  they  sit  appar- 
rently  safe  and  serene  at  home,  yet  are  thinking 
deeply,  living  whole  heart-histories,  and  praying  fer 
vent  prayers  while  they  embroider  pretty  trifles  or 
do  the  weekly  mending. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

TOM'S  SUCCESS. 

"Come,  Philander,  let  us  be  a  marching, 
Every  one  his  true  love  a  searching," 

WOULD  be  the  most  appropriate  motto  for  this 
chapter,  because,  intimidated  by  the  threats, 
denunciations,  and  complaints  showered  upon  me  tn 
consequence  of  taking  the  liberty  to  end  a  certain 
story  as  I  liked,  I  now  yield  to  the  amiable  desire  of 
giving  satisfaction,  and,  at  the  risk  of  outraging  all 
the  unities,  intend  to  pair  off  everybody  I  can  lay  my 
hands  on. 

Occasionally  a  matrimonial  epidemic  appears,  espe 
cially  toward  spring,  devastating  society,  thinning  the 
ranks  of  bachelordom,  and  leaving  mothers  lamenting 
for  their  fairest  daughters.  That  spring  the  disease 
broke  out  with  great  violence  in  the  Shaw  circle, 
causing  paternal  heads  much  bewilderment,  as  one 
case  after  another  appeared  with  alarming  rapidity. 
Fanny,  as  we  have  seen,  was  stricken  first,  and  hardly 
had  she  been,  carried  safely  through  the  crisis,  when 
Tom  returned  to  swell  the  list  of  victims.  As  Fanny 
was  out  a  good  deal  with  her  Arthur,  who  was  sure 


Tom's   Success.  367 

that  exercise  was  necessary  for  the  convalescent, 
Polly  went  every  day  to  see  Mrs.  Shaw,  who  found 
herself  lonety,  though  much  better  than  usual,  for  the 
engagement  had  a  finer  effect  upon  her  constitution 
than  any  tonic  she  ever  tried.  Some  three  days  after 
Fan's  joyful  call  Polly  was  startled  on  entering  the 
thaws'  door,  by  Maud,  who  came  tumbling  down 
stairs,  sending  an  avalanche  of  words  before  her,  — 

"  He 's  come  before  he  said  he  should  to  surprise  us  ! 
He 's  up  in  mamma's  room,  and  was  just  saying, 
1  How 's  Polly  ? '  when  I  heard  you  come,  in  your  creep- 
mouse  way,  and  you  must  go  right  up.  He  looks  so 
funny  with  whiskers,  but  he 's  ever  so  nice,  real  big 
and  brown,  and  he  swung  me  right  up  when  he  kissed 
me.  Never  mind  your  bonnet,  I  can't  wait." 

And  pouncing  upon  Polly,  Maud  dragged  her  away 
like  a  captured  ship  towed  by  a  noisy  little  steam- 
tug. 

u  The  sooner  it's  over  the  better  for  me,"  was  the 
only  thought  Polly  had  time  for  before  she  plunged 
into  the  room  above,  propelled  by  Maud,  who  cried 
triumphantly,  — 

"  There  he  is  !     Ain't  he  splendid  ?" 

For  a  minute,  everything  danced  before  Polly's 
eyes,  as  a  hand  shook  hers  warmly,  and  a  gruifish 
voice  said  heartily, — 

"  How  are  you,  Polly?"  Then  she  slipped  into  a 
chair  beside  Mrs.  Shaw,  hoping  that  her  reply  had 
been  all  right  and  proper,  for  she  had  not  the  least 
idea  what  she  said. 

Things  got  steady  again  directly,  and  while  Maud 
expatiated  on  the  great  surprise,  Polly  ventured  to 


368  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

look  at  Tom,  feeling  glad  that  her  back  was  toward 
the  light,  and  his  was  not.  It  was  not  a  large  room, 
and  Tom  seemed  to  fill  it  entirely ;  not  that  he  had 
grown  so  very  much,  except  broader  in  the  shoulders, 
but  there  was  a  brisk,  genial,  free-and-easy  air  about 
him,  suggestive  of  a  stirring,  out-of-door  life,  with 
people  who  kept  their  eyes  wide  open,  and  were  not 
very  particular  what  they  did  with  their  arms  and 
legs.  The  rough-and-ready  travelling  suit,  stout 
boots,  brown  face,  and  manly  beard,  changed  him  so 
much,  that  Polly  could  find  scarcely  a  trace  of  elegant 
Tom  Shaw  in  the  hearty  looking  young  man  who 
stood  with  one  foot  on  a  chair,  while  he  talked  busi 
ness  to  his  father  in  a  sensible  way,  which  delighted 
the  old  gentleman.  Polly  liked  the  change  immensely, 
and  sat  listening  to  the  state  of  Western  trade  with 
as  much  interest  as  if  it  had  been  the  most  thrilling 
romance,  for,  as  he  talked,  Tom  kept  looking  at  her 
with  a  nod  or  a  smile  so  like  old  times,  that  for  a 
little  while  she  forgot  Maria  Bailey,  and  was  in  bliss. 
By  and  by  Fanny  came  flying  in,  and  gave  Tom  a 
greater  surprise  than  his  had  been.  He  had  not  the 
least  suspicion  of  what  had  been  going  on  at  home, 
for  Fan  had  said  to  herself,  with  girlish  malice,  "  If 
he  don't  choose  to  tell  me  his  secrets,  I  'm  not  going 
to  tell  mine,"  and  had  said  nothing  about  Sydney, 
except  an  occasional  allusion  to  his  being  often  there, 
and  very  kind.  Therefore,  when  she  announced  her 
engagement,  Tom  looked  so  staggered  for  a  minute, 
that  Fan  thought  he  did  n't  like  it ;  but  after  the  first 
surprise  passed,  he  showed  such  an  affectionate  satis 
faction,  that  she  was  both  touched  and  flattered. 


Toms   Success.  369 

**  What  do  you  think  of  this  performance  ? "  asked 
Tom,  wheeling  round  to  Polly,  who  still  sat  by  Mrs. 
Shaw,  in  the  shadow  of  the  bed-curtains. 

"  I  like  it  very  much,"  she  said,  in  such  a  hearty 
tone,  that  Tom  could  not  doubt  the  genuineness  of 
her  pleasure. 

"  Glad  of  that.  Hope  you  '11  be  as  well  pleased 
with  another  engagement  that's  coming  out  before 
long  "  ;  and  with  an  odd  laugh,  Tom  carried  Sydney 
off  to  his  den,  leaving  the  girls  to  telegraph  to  one 
another  the  awful  message, — 

"  It  is  Maria  Bailey." 

How  she  managed  to  get  through  that  evening, 
Polly  never  knew,  yet  it  was  not  a  long  one,  for  at 
eight  o'clock  she  slipped  out  of  the  room,  meaning  to 
run  home  alone,  and  not  compel  any  one  to  serve  as 
escort.  But  she  did  not  succeed,  for  as  she  stood 
warming  her  rubbers  at  the  dining-room  fire,  wonder 
ing  pensively  as  she  did  so  if  Maria  Bailey  had  small 
feet,  and  if  Tom  ever  put  her  rubbers  on  for  her,  the 
little  overshoes  were  taken  out  of  her  hands,  and 
Tom's  voice  said,  reproachfully,  — 

"  Did  you  really  mean  to  run  away,  and  not  let  me 
go  home  with  you  ?  " 

"  I  'm  not  afraid  ;  I  did  n't  want  to  take  you  away," 
began  Polly,  secretly  hoping  that  she  did  n't  look  too 
pleased. 

"  But  I  like  to  be  taken  away.  Why,  it 's  a  whole 
year  since  I  went  home  with  you  ;  do  you  remember 
that  ?  "  said  Tom,  flapping  the  rubbers  about  without 
any  signs  of  haste. 

"  Does  it  seem  long?  " 

"  Everlasting ! " 


370  An  Old-Fashioned  GirL 

Polly  meant  to  say  that  quite  easily,  and  smile 
incredulously  at  his  answer;  but  in  spite  of  the 
coquettish  little  rose-colored  hood  she  wore,  and  which 
she  knew  was  very  becoming,  she  did  not  look  or 
speak  gayty,  and  Toni  saw  something  in  the  altered 
face  that  made  him  say  hastily,  — 

"  I  'm  afraid  you've  been  doing  too  much  this  winter  ; 
you  look  tired  out,  Polly." 

"  Oh,  no !  it  suits  me  to  be  very  busy,"  and  she 
began  to  drag  on  her  gloves  as  if  to  prove  it. 

"  But  it  does  n't  suit  me  to  have  you  get  thin  and 
pale,  you  know." 

Polly  looked  up  to  thank  him,  but  never  did,  for 
there  was  something  deeper  than  gratitude  in  the 
honest  blue  eyes,  that  could  not  hide  the  truth 
entirely.  Tom  saw  it,  flushed  all  over  his  brown  face, 
and  dropping  the  rubbers  with  a  crash,  took  her  hands, 
saying,  in  his  old  impetuous  wa}7",  — 

"  Polly,  I  want  to  tell  you  something  !  " 

"  Yes,  I  know,  we  've  been  expecting  it.  I  hope 
you'll  be  very  happy,  Torn;"  and  Polly  shook  his 
hands  with  a  smile  that  was  more  pathetic  than  a 
flood  of  tears. 

"  What ! "  cried  Tom,  looking  as  if  he  thought  she 
had  lost  her  mind. 

"  Ned  told  us  all  about  her ;  he  thought  it  would  be 
so,  and  when  you  spoke  of  another  engagement,  we 
knew  you  meant  your  own." 

"  But  I  did  n't !  Ned  's  the  man  ;  he  told  me  to  tell 
you.  It 's  just  settled." 

"  Is  it  Maria?"  cried  Polly,  holding  on  to  a  chair 
as  if  to  be  prepared  for  anything. 

"  Of  course.     Who  else  should  it  be  ?  " 


TOM'S    SUCCESS. 

"  Do  you  want  to  know  the  name  of  the  pirl  I've  loved  for  more  than  a  year! 
PA  OH   „, 


Toms   Success.  371 

"He  didn't  say  —  you  talked  about  her  most  — 
and  so  we  thought  — "  stammered  Polly,  falling  into 
a  sudden  flutter. 

"  That  I  was  in  love  ?  Well,  I  am,  but  not  with 
her." 

'"  Oh ! "  and  Polly  caught  her  breath  as  if  a  dash  of 
cold  water  had  fallen  on  her,  for  the  more  in  earnest 
Tom  grew,  the  blunter  he  became. 

"  Do  you  want  to  know  the  name  of  the  girl  I  've 
loved  for  more  than  a  year?  Well,  it 's  Polly  ! "  As 
he  spoke,  Tom  stretched  out  his  arms  to  her,  with  the 
sort  of  mute  eloquence  that  cannot  be  resisted,  and 
Polly  went  straight  into  them,  without  a  word. 

Never  mind  what  happened  for  a  little  bit.  Love 
scenes,  if  genuine,  are  indescribable  ;  for  to  those  who 
have  enacted  them,  the  most  elaborate  description 
seems  tame,  and  to  those  who  have  not,  the  simplest 
picture  seems  overdone.  So  romancers  had  better  let 
imagination  paint  for  them  that  which  is  above  all 
art,  and  leave  their  lovers  to  themselves  during  the 
happiest  minutes  of  their  lives. 

Before  long,  Tom  and  Polly  were  sitting  side  by 
side,  enjoying  the  blissful  state  of  mind  which  usually 
follows  the  first  step  out  of  our  work-a-day  world,  into 
the  glorified  region  wherein  lovers  rapturously  exist 
for  a  month  or  two.  Tom  just  sat  and  looked  at  Polly 
as  if  he  found  it  difficult  to  believe  that  the  winter  of 
his  discontent  had  ended  in  this  glorious  spring.  But 
Polly,  being  a  true  woman,  asked  questions,  even 
while  she  laughed  and  cried  for  joy. 

"  Now,  Tom,  how  could  I  know  you  loved  me  when 
you  went  away  and  never  said  a  word  ?  "  she  began,  in 


37 2  An  Old- Fashioned  Girl. 

a  tenderly  reproachful  tone,  thinking  of  the  hard  }Tear 
she  had  spent. 

"  And  how  could  I  have  the  courage  to  say  a  word, 
when  I  had  nothing  on  the  face  of  the  earth  to 
offer  you  but  my  worthless  self?"  answered  Tom, 
warmly. 

"  That  was  all  I  wanted  !  "  whispered  Polly,  in  a 
tone  which  caused  him  to  feel  that  the  race  of  angels 
was  not  entirely  extinct. 

"  I  Ve  always  been  fond  of  you,  my  Polly,  but  I 
never  realized  how  fond  till  just  before  I  went  away. 
I  was  n't  free,  you  know,  and  besides  I  had  a  strong 
impression  that  you  liked  Sydney  in  spite  of  the  dam 
per  which  Fan  hinted  you  gave  him  last  winter.  He 's 
such  a  capital  fellow,  I  really  don't  see  how  you  could 
help  it." 

u  It  is  strange  ;  I  don't  understand  it  myself;  but 
women  are  queer  creatures,  and  there  's  no  account 
ing  for  their  tastes,"  said  Polly,  with  a  sly  look,  which 
Tom  fully  appreciated. 

"  You  were  so  good  to  me  those  last  days,  that  I 
came  very  near  speaking  out,  but  could  n't  bear  to 
seem  to  be  offering  you  a  poor,  disgraced  sort  of  fel 
low,  whom  Trix  would  n't  have,  and  no  one  seemed 
to  think  worth  much.  '  No,'  I  said  to  myself,  c  Polly 
ought  to  have  the  best ;  if  Syd  can  get  her,  let  him, 
and  I  won't  say  a  word.  I  '11  try  to  be  better  worthy 
her  friendship,  any  way;  and  perhaps,  when  I've 
proved  that  I  can  do  something,  and  am  not  ashamed 
to  work,  then,  if  Polly  is  free,  I  shan't  be  afraid  to' 
try  my  chance.'  So  I  held  my  tongue,  worked  like  a 
horse,  satisfied  myself  and  others  that  I  could  get  my 


Toms   Success.  373 

living  honestly,  and  then  came  home  to  see  if  there 
was  any  hope  for  me." 

"  And  I  was  waiting  for  you  all  the  time,"  said  a 
soft  voice  close  to  his  shoulder ;  for  Polly  was  much 
touched  by  Tom's  manly  efforts  to  deserve  her. 

"  I  did  n't  mean  to  do  it  the  first  minute,  but  look 
about  me  a  little,  and  be  sure  Syd  was  all  right.  But 
Fan's  news  settled  that  point,  and  just  now  the  look 
in  my  Polly's  face  settled  the  other.  I  could  n't  wait 
another  minute,  or  let  you  either,  and  I  could  n't  help 
stretching  out  my  arms  to  my  little  wife,  God  bless 
her,  though  I  know  I  don't  deserve  her." 

Tom's  voice  got  lower  and  lower  as  he  spoke,  and 
his  face  was  full  of  an  emotion  of  which  he  need  not 
be  ashamed,  for  a  very  sincere  love  ennobled  him, 
making  him  humble,  where  a  shallower  affection  would 
have  been  proud  of  its  success.  Polly  understood 
this,  and  found  the  honest,  hearty  speech  of  her  lover 
more  eloquent  than  poetry  itself.  Her  hand  stole  up 
to  his  cheek,  and  she  leaned  her  own  confidingly 
against  the  rough  coat,  as  she  said,  in  her  frank,  sim 
ple  way,  — 

"  Tom,  dear,  don't  say  that,  as  if  I  was  the  best 
girl  in  the  world.  I  've  got  ever  so  many  faults,  and 
I  want  3rou  to  know  them  all,  and  help  me  cure  them, 
aa  you  have  your  own.  Waiting  has  not  done  us  any 
harm,  and  I  love  you  all  the  better  for  your  trial. 
But  I  'm  afraid  your  year  has  been  harder  than  mine, 
you  look  so  much  older  and  graver  than  when  you 
went  away.  You  never  would  complain;  but  I've 
had  a  feeling  that  you  were  going  through  a  good 
deal  more  than  any  of  us  guessed-" 


374  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

"  Pretty  tough  work  at  first,  I  own.  It  was  all  so 
new  and  strange,  I  'm  afraid  I  should  n't  have  stood 
it  if  it  had  not  been  for  Ned.  He  'd  laugh  and  say 
*  Pooh ! '  if  he  heard  me  say  it,  but  it's  true  neverthe 
less  that  he 's  a  grand  fellow  and  helped  me  through 
the  first  six  months  like  a  —  well,  a  brother  as  he  is. 
There  was  no  reason  why  he  should  go  out  of  his  way 
to  back  up  a  shiftless  party  like  me,  yet  he  did,  and 
made  many  things  easy  and  safe  that  would  have  been 
confoundedly  hard  and  dangerous  if  I  'd  been  left  to 
myself.  The  only  way  I  can  explain  it  is  that  it 's  a 
family  trait,  and  as  natural  to  the  brother  as  it  is  to 
the  sister." 

"  It 's  a  Shaw  trait  to  do  the  same.  But  tell  me 
about  Maria ;  is  Ned  really  engaged  to  her  ?  " 

"  Very  much  so ;  you'll  get  a  letter  full  of  raptures 
to-morrow ;  he  had  n't  time  to  send  by  me,  I  came  off 
in  such  a  hurry.  Maria  is  a  sensible,  pretty  girl,  and 
Ned  will  be  a  happy  old  fellow." 

"  Why  did  you  let  us  think  it  was  you  ?  " 

"  I  only  teased  Fan  a  little  ;  I  did  like  Maria,  for 
she  reminded  me  of  you  sometimes,  and  was  such 
a  kind,  cosy  little  woman  I  could  n't  help  enjoying 
her  society  after  a  hard  day's  work.  But  Ned  got 
jealous,  and  then  I  knew  that  he  was  in  earnest,  so 
I  left  him  a  clear  field,  and  promised  not  to  breathe 
a  word  to  any  one  till  he  had  got  a  Yes  or  No  from 
his  Maria." 

"  I  wish  I  'd  known  it,"  sighed  Polly.  "  People  in 
love  always  do  such  stupid  things !  " 

"  So  they  do  ;  for  neither  you  nor  Fan  gave  us  poor 
fellows  the  least  hint  about  Syd,  and  there  I  've  been 
having  all  sorts  of  scares  about  you." 


Totris  Success.  375 

'*  Serves  us  right ;  brothers  and  sisters  should  n't 
have  secrets  from  each  other." 

"  We  never  will  again.  Did  you  miss  me  very 
much?" 

"  Yes,  Tom ;  very,  very  much." 

"  My  patient  little  Polly ! " 

"  Did  you  really  care  for  me  before  you  went  ?  " 

"  See  if  I  did  n't;"  and  with  great  pride  Tom  pro 
duced  a  portly  pocket-book  stuffed  with  business-like 
documents  of  a  most  imposing  appearance,  opened  a 
private  compartment,  and  took  out  a  worn-looking 
paper,  unfolded  it  carefully,  and  displayed  a  small 
brown  object  which  gave  out  a  faint  fragrance. 

"  That's  the  rose  you  put  in  the  birthday  cake,  and 
next  week  we  '11  have  a  fresh  one  in  another  jolly  little 
cake  which  you  '11  make  me  ;  you  left  it  on  the  floor  of 
my  den  the  night  we  talked  there,  and  I've  kept  it 
ever  since.  There 's  love  and  romance  for  you  !  " 

Polly  touched  the  little  relic,  treasured  for  a  year, 
and  smiled  to  read  the  words  "  My  Polly's  rose," 
scribbled  under  the  crumbling  leaves. 

"I  didn't  know  you  could  be  so  sentimental,"  she 
said,  looking  so  pleased  that  he  did  not  regret  confess 
ing  his  folly. 

"  I  never  was  till  I  loved  you,  my  dear,  and  I  'm 
not  very  bad  yet,  for  I  don't  wear  my  posy  next  my 
heart,  but  where  I  can  see  it  every  day,  and  so  never 
forget  for  whom  I  am  working.  Should  n't  wonder 
if  that  bit  of  nonsense  had  kept  me  economical,  honest, 
and  hard  at  it,  for  I  never  opened  my  pocket-book 
that  I  did  n't  think  of  you." 

"That's    lovely,  Tom,"    and  Polly  found  it  so 


376  An  O Id-Fashioned  Girl. 

touching  that  she  felt  for  her  handkerchief ;  but  Tom 
took  it  away,  and  made  her  laugh  instead  of  cry,  by 
saying,  in  a  wheedlesome  tone,  — 

"I  don't  believe  you  did  as  much,  for  all  yout 
romance.  Did  you,  now  ?  " 

"  If  you  won't  laugh,  I  '11  show  you  my  treasures. 
I  began  first,  and  I  Ve  worn  them  longest." 

As  she  spoke,  Polly  drew  out  the  old  locket,  opened 
it,  and  showed  the  picture  Tom  gave  her  in  the  bag  of 
pea-nuts,  cut  small  and  fitted  in  on  one  side ;  on  the 
other  was  a  curl  of  reddish  hair  and  a  black  button. 
How  Tom  laughed  when  he  saw  them ! 

"  You  don't  mean  you  've  kept  that  frightful  guy 
of  a  boy  all  this  time  ?  Polly !  Polly !  you  are  the  most 
faithful '  loveress,'  as  Maud  says,  that  was  ever  known." 

"  Don't  flatter  yourself  that  I  Ve  worn  it  all  these 
years,  sir  ;  I  only  put  it  in  last  spring  because  I  didn't 
dare  to  ask  for  one  of  the  new  ones.  The  button  come 
off  the  old  coat  you  insisted  on  wearing  after  the  fail 
ure,  as  if  it  was  your  duty  to  look  as  shabby  as  possible, 
and  the  curl  I  stole  from  Maud.  Are  n't  we  silly  ? " 

He  did  not  seem  to  think  so,  and  after  a  short  pause 
for  refreshments,  Polly  turned  serious,  and  said  anx 
iously,  — 

"  When  must  you  go  back  to  your  hard  work? " 

"  In  a  week  or  two  ;  but  it  won't  seem  drudgery  now, 
for  you  '11  write  every  day,  and  I  shall  feel  that  I  'm 
working  to  get  a  home  for  you.  That  will  give  me  a 
forty-man-power,  and  I  '11  pay  up  my  debts  and  get  a 
good  start,  and  then  Ned  and  I  will  be  married  and 
go  into  partnership,  and  we'll  all  be  the  happiest, 
busiest  people  in  the  West." 


Toms   Success.  377 

"  It  sounds  delightful ;  but  won't  it  take  a  long  time, 
Tom?" 

"  Only  a  few  years,  and  we  need  n't  wait  a  minute 
after  Syd  is  paid,  if  you  don't  mind  beginning  rather 
low  down,  Polly." 

"  I  'd  rather  work  up  with  you,  than  sit  idle  while 
you  toil  away  all  alone.  That 's  the  way  father  and 
mother  did,  and  I  think  they  were  very  happy  in 
Bpite  of  the  poverty  and  hard  work." 

"  Then  we  '11  do  it  by  another  year,  for  I  must  get 
more  salary  before  I  take  you  away  from  a  good  home 
here.  I  wish,  oh,  Polly,  how  I  wish  I  had  a  half  of 
the  money  I've  wasted,  to  make  you  comfortable 
now." 

"  Never  mind,  I  don't  want  it ;  I  'd  rather  have  less, 
and  know  you  earned  it  all  yourself,"  cried  Polly,  as 
Tom  struck  his  hand  on  his  knee  with  an  acute  pang 
of  regret  at  the  power  he  had  lost. 

"  It 's  like  you  to  say  it,  and  I  won't  waste  any 
words  bewailing  myself,  because  I  was  a  fool.  We 
will  work  up  together,  my  brave  Polly,  and  you  shall 
yet  be  proud  of  your  husband,  though  he  is  '  poor 
Tom  Shaw.' " 

She  was  as  sure  of  that  as  if  an  oracle  had  foretold 
it,  and  was  not  deceived ;  for  the  loving  heart  that 
had  always  seen,  believed,  and  tried  to  strengthen 
all  good  impulses  in  Tom,  was  well  repaid  for  its 
instinctive  trust  by  the  happiness  of  the  years  to 
come. 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  hopefully,  "  I  know  you  will 
succeed,  for  the  best  thing  a  man  can  have,  is  work 
with  a  purpose  in  it,  and  the  will  to  do  it  heartily." 


378  An  Old-Fashioned  Girl. 

"  There  is  one  better  thing,  Polly,"  answered  Tom, 
turning  her  face  up  a  little,  that  he  might  see  his 
inspiration  shining  in  her  eyes. 

"What  is  it,  dear?" 

"  A  good  womaaJo_love  and  help  him  all  his  life, 
as  you  will  me,  please  God." 

"  Even  though  she  is  old-fashioned,"  whispered 
Polly,  with  happy  eyes,  the  brighter  for  their  tears, 
as  she  looked  up  at  the  young  man,  who,  through  her, 
had  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  truest  success,  and  was 
not  ashamed  to  owe  it  to  love  and  labor,  two  beauti 
ful  old  fashions  that  began  long  ago,  with  the  first 
pair  in  Eden. 

Lest  any  of  my  young  readers  who  have  honored 
Maud  with  their  interest  should  suffer  the  pangs  of 
unsatisfied  curiosity  as  to  her  future,  I  will  add  for 
their  benefit  that  she  did  not  marry  Will,  but  re 
mained  a  busy,  lively  spinster  all  her  days,  and  kept 
house  for  her  father  in  the  most  delightful  manner. 

Will's  ministerial  dream  came  to  pass  in  the  course 
of  time,  however,  and  a  gentle,  bright-eyed  lady  ruled 
over  the  parsonage,  whom  the  reverend  William 
called  his  "  little  Jane." 

Farther  into  futurity  even  this  rash  pen  dares  not 
proceed,  but  pauses  here,  concluding  in  the  words  of 
the  dear  old  fairy  tales,  "  And  so  they  were  married, 
and  all  lived  happily  till  they  died." 


'  <•_/  •  "^v^r 


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